The Girl Who Lived
by ilovetvalot
Summary: A violent nightmare from JJ's past has serious implications on the team. JJ/Rossi, Morgan/Garcia, Hotch/Emily. And the reemergence of Jason Gideon! Welcome to our next epic! Co-written with Tonnie. THE GRAND FINALE is UP!
1. Prologue

**_Author's Note: Let me preface this by saying that events surrounding this story are Alternate Universe. For my storyline purposes, Will and Henry never existed on the show. I feel fairly certain that this will end up being another epic, so I hope ya'll enjoy it. Drop a line and let Tonnie and myself know what you think. As ever, we own nothing._**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Prologue**

She'd thought it was going to be just another normal day at the office. It was their intrepid team's stand-down month. Mountains of paperwork to complete and endless boxes of case files to sort through were supposed to be her primary concerns for now. It was supposed to be simple, easy, rote. Definitely not this.

Never this.

This was supposed to be over. A vague nightmare from a distant past she did not, could not remember clearly. Whether the memories were dulled by time or the drugs he'd injected into her, she didn't know. Didn't care, really. But that one image that had glared at her from the seemingly innocent white screen had been enough to bring the nightmare that hadn't plagued her in over ten years rushing back.

Kneeling on the cold linoleum in front of the toilet in the ladies' room, JJ pulled in a deep breath, sternly willing her stomach to stop its roiling. It was a useless effort. Feeling that breath catch in her throat, she weakly shook her head, her blonde hair swaying loosely against her skin. Avoidance, as determined as she might be, was useless. Raising a hand to unconsciously touch the brand burned into her back, the raised skin still evident to her touch, she suddenly realized that soon, everyone would know. Even if they didn't already, she'd have to tell them. A part of her, the part that was patiently reasoning with the screaming voice in her head, knew that she had no choice. Somewhere, buried in her subconscious, she might have information that could help them.

For she, and she alone, had been his only survivor to date.

For years, she'd spent valuable time wondering why. Why her? What had been so special about her that allowed her to survive the unspeakable horrors when others didn't? How had she managed to survive those two weeks when so many before her had not? She couldn't imagine that she was any more determined than any of his other victims. They'd been children, for God's sake!

And how was it even possible that this was happening again? Her unsub was dead! She'd watched him die, hadn't she? Hadn't she?

Roughly wiping her cheeks, her fingers swiping the tear that she hadn't even realized she was shedding, she bit her lip, worrying the delicate skin. Pull it together, she ordered herself sharply, biting a smidge harder to draw her attention back to the present. Hearing her father's soft steady voice in her mind's ears, she smiled faintly as she heard him demand tenderly, "Shoulder to the wall, girl! You survived. The others didn't. Don't taint their memory and sacrifice by falling apart now."

Closing her eyes as she leaned heavier against the cold, sterile tile, she wondered if her father had handled this any better than she had when he'd been told. Knowing him, she couldn't imagine he would have. This monster had kidnapped both his children, and, in the end, only one had been returned to him. Lacy had died the day before they'd been found. She didn't remember it, however. Her mother had told her later in the hospital, the moment a strange, hazy recollection playing on the corners of her mind.

Mama…oh, Mama. For once, Jennifer was glad her mother had already passed on. She and Lacy were together again, somewhere where neither one of them could ever be hurt again. Only she and her father remained of their small family. Nodding at that thought, she reminded herself that she was still living. She was still a part of a family. She was alive.

Forcing herself out of the floor, muscles complaining harshly, she walked slowly out of the small bathroom stall and headed toward the sink. Twisting the water on, she cupped her trembling hands under the flow and splashed her face, drawing her eyes up to the mirror. Staring at her pale complexion, she winced, casting her eyes back down quickly. If she had looked this rough earlier, then, God, she could only imagine what her colleagues were saying about her inside the war room right now.

When she'd turned to blindly run from the room, unable to she'd caught a brief look at Hotch's stricken face, his normally stoic expression gone. Rossi had looked on the verge of implosion, his coloring rising as quickly as his temper. And Jason Gideon's dark eyes had pitied her, his gaze a mixture of sympathy and quiet knowing.

God, how bad was it if Erin Strauss had recalled Jason Gideon back to the Bureau? More importantly, how bad a sign was it that he'd agreed to return? She knew he'd worked the original case all those years ago. Not that she remembered him or any of the others that had repeatedly interviewed her, spoken to her family, searched for details that just couldn't be found. Truthfully, there wasn't much of anything about that time that she could see clearly. Those recollections were all shrouded in shadows, whispers on the edges of her consciousness, waning with time and circumstances. Her long ago therapist that her father had insisted she see had defined it as a self protective mechanism, her mind's ingrained ability designed to protect her body, her psyche .

Logically, she knew that made sense. The mind had a way of blocking out what the body couldn't handle, shouldn't handle. And up until this moment, she'd been grateful for that small mercy. Unfortunately, now, though, she needed those memories.

She needed them because Jennifer Jareau was the girl who lived.


	2. Chapter 1

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One**

JJ's harsh scream still echoed in the now ominously silent war room as every individual inside watched her fly toward the only door, her blonde hair streaming behind. Moving automatically to follow her best friend, Penelope Garcia found her path blocked as Section Chief Erin Strauss slid smoothly in front of her, effectively blocking her inside the room.

"Ma'am?" Garcia frowned, hands dropping to her ample hips. "I really think one of us needs to go after Agent Jareau. Something's obviously rotten in Denmark," Penelope said with her usual colorful turn of phrase.

"You're absolutely right, Ms. Garcia. But, right now, I believe Agent Jareau might need a few uninterrupted moments to collect herself," Strauss said judiciously, her voice perfectly modulated as she looked over the roomful of concerned co-workers. "Everything will make sense in a few moments," she added with a pointed look in Jason Gideon's direction. "Why don't we all resume our seats? As I said earlier, we have a case," she said, nodding toward the screen at the front of the room showing an obviously dead woman.

Shooting a worried look toward the doorway, Rossi frowned as he glanced toward the screen again as he snapped out, "Somebody wanna explain what the hell is going on around here? And why the hell JJ reacted to it like it's the first dead body she ever saw?"

"Look at the screen, Dave. Tell me what you see," Gideon said quietly, leaning back in the leather chair as he motioned toward the projected image.

Taking a step closer to the projection, Dave narrowed his eyes, forehead crinkling. "Woman, late-twenties, early-thirties. Body eviscerated by multiple stab wounds," he said, his eyes cataloguing the body with detailed accuracy as he spoke. Tilting his head, his eyes narrowed as they reached the woman's shoulder. "Son of a bitch," he whispered, his voice a mixture of shock and sudden understanding. Turning sharply, he looked at Gideon. "I guess that explains your appearance at our little party."

Nodding once, Gideon said simply, "Part of it, Dave."

Looking back and forth between the two men, Hotch ordered, his eyes narrowing dangerously, "Well, why don't you start explaining it to your Unit Chief, boys?"

"Yeah, I'd kinda like to know, too," Morgan nodded, tilting his bald head. "Cause all I see on that screen is an unfortunate stabbing victim."

"That's been branded," Emily added softly, her hand waving toward the specific location on the victim's body. Looking up at Gideon and Rossi, she asked, certainty in her voice, "There's something special about that brand isn't there?"

Looking back at the small trident seared into the woman's skin along with a small thirty beside it, Dave nodded. "We've seen it before."

"When?" Reid asked, his intelligent eyes following Rossi's movement as he stalked closer to the screen.

"Twenty-five years ago, Reid," Gideon answered for him. "Pembroke, Kentucky."

"This unsub has really gone uncaught for almost a quarter of a century?" Garcia asked, grimacing as she looked at the woman's body.

"That's the rub," Gideon said shaking his head as he tossed out case files. "Our unsub was definitely killed during the apprehension. But that," he said, nodding at the screen, "is definitely his mark."

Scrubbing a hand roughly down his face, Rossi asked, "What the hell does any of this have to do with JJ, Jason?"

"Wait…" Morgan murmured, scanning the file quickly, his fingers tracing down the center of the page. "This says that your guy twenty-five years ago had one victim that survived."

Eyes meeting Dave's, Gideon nodded slowly. Leaning back in his chair, he began his explanation. "The press dubbed her "The Girl Who Lived". Her little sister, Lacy, was the unsub's last victim. She was only four. The way it looked when we stormed the cabin where the kids were being kept, JJ was about to become his last victim. Her father was the chief of police, and insisted on being in on the raid, against our better judgment. He took the kill shot of our alleged unsub." Pausing, he took a sip of his coffee, then continued, his voice void of all emotion, merely relaying the facts. "After she was found and the press descended, the family moved and changed their last name in the interest of the child's privacy. They wanted to maintain the kid's anonymity and give her as normal a life as they could, which was going to be nearly impossible if they stayed in that farming community where everyone knew everything about everyone else. Poor kid didn't remember a damn thing. Up until now, I always thought that was a blessing." Looking at Dave, Gideon asked, one eyebrow raised in half-question, half-challenge. "You gettin' there yet, Old Man?"

"No," Dave whispered, glancing from Gideon to the now-closed door and back again. "It can't be. I carried her out!"

"What?" Hotch asked sharply, his eyes closely watching the exchange between his two one-time mentors, the distinct feeling that he had missed an obvious clue hanging in the air.

Shaking his head grimly as he met Hotch's eyes, Gideon stated dispassionately, "The girls name was Jennifer McClellan." Looking around the room, he added, calmly, "Today, you all know her as Jennifer Jareau."

Hearing the audible gasps around the room, Dave could only stare at Gideon, his hands clenching at his side. "Max was right all along. The profile we worked WAS right, damn it!"

"Who's Max?" Morgan asked curiously, unconsciously rubbing the back of his head as he always did when he was stressed, the case gaining weight as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

"Max Colson," Hotch answered for the other two, shaking his head at the memory. "The third and last founding member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He died about ten years ago."

"And he swore to his dying day that we got the wrong man…or more specifically JJ's father had gotten the wrong man," Gideon clarified, glancing over at Rossi in agreement.

"Oh my God!" Pen whispered in barely-controlled horror. "He did THAT," she asked, looking at the picture on the screen with tears in her eyes, "to my little Gumdrop?"

Following her eyes, Gid shook his head. "Unfortunately, sweetheart, THAT was tame by comparison to what he did to the other victims."

Looking over his shoulder at the screen, it wasn't the unsub's latest victim that David Rossi saw. Instead, his mind's eye remembered the shivering naked little girl, her once-fine blonde hair matted and tangled, her body bruised and bloody. And that little girl had been JJ. For a moment, he wondered if she remembered him? Christ, how could he have not made the association before now? Of all the cases that had impacted him, stayed with him, only a handful made that distinguished list. And that case, that horrible case, had been in the top three.

"Okay," Emily said, raising a hand to quiet the room, the muttered curses and hushed cries of sympathy and anger floating around them . "Have we ruled out a copycat or a wannabe? Are we sure that this unsub and JJ's attacker all those years ago are the same man?"

"I'm afraid so," Strauss nodded from her position in the corner of the room. Lifting the remote, she deftly clicked to the next slide. "As you can see, our murderer left a note."

"To the one that got away," Reid read aloud, his eyes scanning the printed text. "I've missed you Jennifer. Be seeing you soon."

"Jesus Christ!" Dave growled, pounding a fist against his leg as he reared his shoulders back. "I need some air. I'll be back," he threw over his shoulder as he stalked out the door.

"Should one of you go with him?" Strauss asked softly as she moved to stand between Gideon and Hotch as the others stared in shock at the screen.

"Since I don't relish the idea of a black eye, I think I'll wait right here, thanks. But you go on ahead if you want, Erin," Gideon offered sarcastically, his lips drawing into a thin line.

Rolling her eyes, Strauss shook her icy blonde head as she let her eyes drift back to the note being ominously displayed for the team.. "So glad you're back, Gideon."


	3. Chapter 2

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Two**

Slamming the conference room door behind him, Dave took a deep breath as images collided violently in his memory. In bare seconds, he'd been transported back to those harrowing moments twenty-five years ago, the horror of those long days invading his present thoughts. He could still smell the sickly sweet aroma of blood filling his nostrils as they'd burst through that cabin's doors, rough-hewn logs splitting behind him. He could still see the mangled bodies of the unsub's victims in that small room, their still, pale bodies still open and exposed.

He'd gone in first, followed by Locke McClellen and Jason Gideon. Max had coordinated from outside, willing to let Jason and him do the heavy work on that…their first case within the fledgling unit. Closing his eyes now, Rossi could still hear the deep anguished cry from behind him as Locke had seen the ravaged body of his youngest daughter lying just inside the doorway, eyes rounded, frozen forever in fear, the top of her small skull removed, exposed to the elements. But Rossi hadn't spared time for more than a sidelong glance at the poor girl. She'd been obviously dead, and beyond any help he could give her at that moment. But a small flutter of movement in the corner of the room had caught his trained eye.

Swinging toward the small movement, his breath had been trapped in his throat when he'd gotten closer, his steps quick but guarded. Lying bloody and broken as a ragdoll, there she'd been, strapped with leather belts to a metal table. Fighting against the incongruous sight, he'd forced himself to focus on the tiny body. Her rib cage had been cut open, but her eyes…God, those bright blue eyes that he'd slowly fallen head over heels for the past couple of years…they had been staring back at him, filled with unshed tears, terror mixing with definite shock in her tiny gaze.

Looking over his shoulder at the older man kneeling on the floor beside his youngest daughter, he'd called out hoarsely, "Locke! It's Jennifer! She's alive, Locke!" The other man had been too embroiled in his own grief and the shocking sight in front of him to comprehend what he'd been telling him; Gideon had been at the man's shoulder, trying to ease him away from his younger daughter's corpse, to no avail.

But Rossi had turned back to the terrified little girl that JJ had been then, his hands working frantically at the stubborn leather straps holding her down. "Just hold on, honey," he'd whispered, his voice barely a hoarse thread of sound, his words croaking out of his tight throat as he'd tried to maintain the last shreds of his control. "A few more seconds and we'll get you out of here. I promise."

Finally, after what had seemed like uncountable years, he'd fought his way through the stiffened bindings, caked with her blood, throwing them violently to the side. Scooping her into his arms, he'd remembered yelling in his communications piece that they needed an ambulance. What he remembered most of all was that frightened, weak little girl voice asking, "Sissy? Where's sissy?"

"Shhh," he'd hushed the scared, hurt little angel, cradling her protectively, trying not to harm her body any more than it already had been. "You're safe now," he'd told her as he'd determinedly moved toward the cabin's door. He'd been desperate to remove her from that place…the Devil's own playground. That's when they'd all heard Max shouting through the ear piece that there was movement in the field behind the cabin. He'd felt Gideon and Locke brush past him as his grip had tightened protectively around the child in his arms…his only focus at the time to get her to the ambulance, knowing the others were more than capable of taking care of whatever was happening on the outside.

By the time he'd delivered her trembling body into the care of the paramedics and made it around the side of the cabin, the echoing kill shot had already been fired. Locke McClellan had stood staring at the fallen body of Mitchell Hines, his gun still smoking in his hands. And though he'd heard the words spoken by the grieving father many times since that night, never had he heard them said with more hatred. "Burn in hell, you son of a bitch."

Shaking his head at the vivid memories, Dave forced himself to swallow past the bitter bile rising in his throat, to forget the smell of gunpowder that still wafted through his mind. It appeared that the wrong son of a bitch had been sent to the hereafter that cold night. The real monster that had stolen six children's lives and organs and very nearly taken a seventh, the monster that they had thought was dead, had obviously roamed free for twenty-five years. And if the number branded into his most recent victim meant anything at all, the bastard had taken one for each of those long years, obviously commemorating the night JJ had lived, if his suspicions were correct.

And now their old-but-new unsub needed victim thirty-one. Jennifer. The one that had gotten away.

Damn it, why hadn't they all listened to Max all those years ago? He'd been a seasoned agent then, having gained twenty years more experience than him and Jason. Hell, Max had been THEIR mentor. Shaking his head, Dave frowned, his jaw tightening. They hadn't listened because as far as Chief Locke McClellan had been concerned, the unsub was dead. And he'd naturally wanted his surviving daughter to heal. After initially allowing Jason a couple of sessions with the traumatized little girl, the grieving father had finally called a halt to the investigation, labeling it a closed case when JJ had entered a near catatonic state after one of the careful questionings.

But, it hadn't been closed. Not by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, Dave suspected, it was just getting started again, determined to crack open wider than before, sadistically swallowing everyone and everything in its hellacious path.

And God help them all. Most of all, Jennifer Jareau.


	4. Chapter 3

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Three**

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Dave reminded himself to focus. This wasn't about him. Somewhere inside this building was a woman that had seen the bowels of hell firsthand, whether she remembered the tortured journey or not. And if he knew Jennifer Jareau at all, she was trying to fight her demons all on her own, refusing to allow anyone inside the protective shell that she had slammed into place. And he absolutely refused to allow her to do that, to keep him out. Unfortunately, he realized she'd probably been doing just that for years.

Ten long minutes later, he'd verified that not only was her office empty of her presence, but so was every ladies' room on the eighteenth floor of the Federal Building. Telling his pounding heart to remain calm as he tried to remember any other nook and cranny that he had missed, he took a deep breath as he stretched his neck, trying to relieve the tense ache that had been steadily building since the startling revelations inside the war room. Think, Rossi! Where could one tiny woman be hiding?

After a long moment, he felt himself relax slightly, a thought invading the corner of his mind. There could only be one other place she might have sought solace. And he knew that particular hiding spot fairly well. He'd unearthed it during those dark days after Haley Hotchner's death, seeking solace in a place that time and others seemed to have forgotten. Many times since that tragic night, he'd found JJ curled up in one of the chairs scattered along the roof of the office building, simply staring into space.

Glancing at his watch as he walked quickly toward the stairwell, he saw that it was just after six. It had long since grown dark on this early February day, the sun setting early on the East Coast in the throes of winter. And hell, it had been freezing already when he'd returned from lunch at one. Hurrying up the stairs, he winced as he wondered how long she'd all ready been sitting out there. Forty-five minutes had passed since she'd run out of the war room. He only hoped she hadn't been out there in the frigid air the entire time, her fragile body no match for the shock of Mother Nature.

Pushing open the heavy metal door to the roof, he halted as his eyes found her, and he felt relief invade his body at the sight of her slim body curled in the wrought iron chair, exactly where he'd found her several times in the past few harrowing months. Shedding his suit coat as he watched her involuntarily shiver as a gust of wind blew over her, he quickly closed the distance between them, dropping his heavy jacket over her shoulders before sliding into the chair beside hers.

"We've really got to find you a better hiding spot during the winter months, Jen," Dave said deeply, his voice loud on the eerily silent roof, his eyes roaming her face, fearing the worst.

Ignoring his comment, JJ lifted the brown bottle she'd hijacked from his office a few minutes before to her lips with numb fingers and shrugged. "I stole your scotch," she muttered with a slight cough as the burning alcohol slid down her throat. "I think I'm going to need it a lot more than you do." Settling back in her seat as another blast of cold air washed over her, the winter wind violent on the upper elevation, she was grateful for the added weight of his coat, still warm from the heat of his body. Cocking her head to the side, she smiled without humor as she glanced up at him, adding, "In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need to find a few more bottles for whatever's coming next."

"Jen-," Dave murmured, disliking the hopeless note in her words, her normally positive personality a mere memory.

"How long did it take in there to figure out in there who I was?" JJ asked emotionlessly, her chilled fingers gripping the bottle even tighter as she stared at a flashing light in the sky.

"Longer than I like to admit," Dave admitted uneasily, stepping closer. "I always knew I remembered those eyes of yours from somewhere. I thought I had it figured out a few months ago when you told me about seeing my lecture at Georgetown all those years ago. But that wasn't it, was it?" he whispered, his shoulders shrugging futilely. "I'm sorry, JJ."

"Why?" JJ asked, truly puzzled as she shifted her gaze toward him. "Trust me, Dave, the last thing I ever wanted was for you to remember me from my childhood." Taking a breath as her chest tightened again at those hazy memories, she shook her head, forcing herself to step away from those thoughts, to focus on what she could control. "I wasn't exactly looking my best during our first meeting," she added with a tinge of bitterness, once again despising the horrors of her past.

"So you remembered me then?" Dave queried softly, not wanting to push but also needing to know the truth. Pulling a vacant chair closer, he flinched at the scrape of metal against roof, the sound incongruous with the otherwise quiet surroundings.

"I remembered your face. I remembered you were the one that pulled me out of that cabin. But everything before that is just a haze," JJ whispered, watching as he settled next to her, silently needing his closeness. "And a lot of what happened for about the first year afterward is, too." Taking another breath, she confided quietly, "What I told you about Georgetown was true though. You were the reason I decided to join the Bureau."

"It was your case that I was talking about that day. Jesus, Jennifer, it had to be hell to hear me talking about it like that," he muttered, running a hand over his face as he leaned heavily against the back of the cold chair, ignoring the freezing breeze as it once again wrapped around the roof.

"You were honest. And it was obvious it had made an emotional impact on you," she replied tonelessly, her hands clenching around his coat, pulling it closer to her body as she unconsciously used it as a shield to more than just the chilly weather. Inhaling deeply, she felt his unique smell combine with the frigid air, settling in her lungs, both of them subconsciously reminding her that she was alive.

"It was my first case with the unit. For both Gideon and myself. And up until now, we assumed we'd had the profile wrong," he said, sighing. Well, almost all of them had made that assumption, he added silently to himself. Max alone had held firm. They should have looked closer…maybe then…

Cutting him off, JJ shook her head as she tucked her fingers into the deep pockets of the heavy wool. "You said that case was why you knew you'd made the right decision when you joined the unit. That as long as there were monsters like that in the world preying on innocent children, you felt duty bound to chase them. You made me feel that way, too." Drawing in a shuddery breath, JJ swallowed, admitting softly, "I still do."

"Not this one, JJ," Dave shook his head, staring at her wan face as he wished he could make this easier for her...that he could do something…anything to ease that ache he watched in her eyes. "You've already fought this monster once. You paid your dues. You let us handle this one for you."

Meeting his eyes as she smiled sadly, JJ shook her head, pulling the bottle back to her frigid lips, the liquid burning as it crossed her tongue and flew down her throat. "We both know that isn't how that is gonna work. Not this time. Not this unsub."

"JJ-," Dave began warily, his eyes tracking the path of the liquor, wanting to take away the alcohol but recognizing the ingrained need for the relief, albeit temporary, that it was offering her.

"It's time to go home and face the demon," JJ whispered with an air of finality, her eyes traveling back to the DC skyline as she lapsed back into silence.


	5. Chapter 4

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Four**

Striding angrily into Erin Strauss' office, Dave slammed the heavy wood door behind him, announcing his presence. "Tell me that you idiots aren't seriously in here contemplating allowing JJ to join us in the field like Reid just told me!" Dave demanded, his voice echoing off the taupe walls.

"Agent Rossi," Strauss sighed, "So nice of you to join our discussion."

"Shove it, Erin. I really don't have the time or feel like wasting my valuable energy by sparring with you this evening," Dave muttered. Pacing the length of her office, Dave shook his head. "It can't happen," he mumbled to himself, fighting the urge to smash his fist through the nearest viable object, his anger needing a physical outlet before the emotional explosion occurred.

"All right, David," Erin replied patiently, "I've heard Agent Gideon's reasoning for endorsing Agent Jareau's participation, so…"

"What?" Dave asked, jerking his head up sharply as he comprehended the Section Chief's words. Glaring at an outwardly serene Jason Gideon, Dave snapped, "Tell me I didn't hear her right, Gid."

"Last I checked, you weren't deaf, Rossi," Gideon replied evenly, clasping his hands across his stomach as he slouched in the chair in front of Strauss' desk, his legs stretched out and ankles crossed.

Frowning slightly at Gideon's attempt at sarcasm, Hotch asked calmly, turning his attention back to his current Senior Agent, "Where is JJ, Rossi?"

"I left her with Garcia. Once I got her off the damn roof," Rossi grumbled, fists swinging by his side. Meeting Hotch's neutral gaze, Rossi stated, tightly, "She thinks that she's going with us."

"That's because JJ is a good agent that knows what has to happen here," Gideon replied without looking at him.

"JJ is a victim, Jason," Dave argued roughly, his fists clenching at his sides. "How can you even contemplate asking this of her? You know the goddamn rules. We protect the victims, Gid. Have you really been gone so long that you've forgotten rule fucking one!"

"I haven't forgotten anything, Rossi," Gideon replied, his voice shaper, but still low in the office. "I was there, too, all those years ago. I saw the same things you did. I know she's been through hell and I don't particularly relish the idea of asking her to revisit it. But, she's a witness, too. She saw things, Rossi. We need her memories."

"Her memories are locked down tighter than the gold at Fort Knox," Dave denied, throwing an disbelieving look toward his one-time team mate. "You went in after those memories once before. Remember how well that turned out? You almost turned Locke McClellan's daughter into a vegetable, if I recall!"

Jerking out of his seat, Gideon turned dark, angry eyes toward Dave. "You don't need to remind me what happened, asshole! I was the one in that room when she shut down!"

"Because YOU never knew when to stop pushing!" Dave yelled, his dark eyes flashing.

"Because we needed answers! And if I'd pushed a little harder, a little faster, maybe we wouldn't be here today!" Gideon snapped, jerking his head sharply.

"Gentleman!" Strauss ordered, her strident voice rising above them both. "Like both of you, I was there, too. And turning against each other now is going to accomplish absolutely nothing. Either way we choose to go with this, I've promised the Chief of Police, as well as Agent Jareau's father, that we'd have feet on the ground by midnight. We need to come to an agreement."

"Strauss is right," Hotch sighed, looking between his two friends who had once mentored him, wondering for a second if his team could survive the current case and the current animosity.

"I bet that hurt to say," Gideon chuckled, dropping back into his seat, still angry, but somewhat calmer. Drawing a deep breath, Gideon raised his eyes to Dave again, his tone slightly conciliatory. "Look, I know she made more of an impact on you. You carried her out of hell. Those paramedics told me she left claw marks when you tried to hand her over to them; she was trying so hard to hold on to you."

"She was terrified," Dave mumbled, his eyes involuntarily twitching at the thoughts. "Traumatized." Meeting Gid's dark look, Dave continued, straightening his shoulders, "And you want to do it to her again."

"Because no matter how much I despise it, she's a witness, too, Dave. And we need those recollections that she's got locked inside her," Gideon replied calmly, watching Dave's face tighten. "He had her for almost two weeks, Dave. You can't tell me that she didn't see something…hear something…that could help."

"Damn it," Dave growled, stalking toward the window, his solid steps belying the anger hiding inside. "You couldn't retrieve those memories the first time, Jase. What the hell makes you think you'll have any better luck now?"

"First, JJ's not the traumatized seven year old girl that she was then," Gideon informed him quietly.

Glancing at Gid over his shoulder, Dave frowned. "Her age might have changed, Gideon, but believe me when I tell you that the woman I just left with Garcia is still as overwhelmed by the events in her past as she ever was."

"But she's strong enough to cope now. And she knows what's riding on this now. As an adult and as an agent, she knows what has to happen," Gideon replied implacably. "Look, Dave, we both know that I'll handle her with kid gloves," Gideon rumbled, holding up his hands.

"Were those the gloves you were using twenty-five years ago?" Dave asked bitterly.

"Agent Rossi," Strauss said quietly from behind her desk, "We both know we were ALL doing our job back then. None of us did anything wrong."

"Spoken like the bureaucrat we know and hate," Dave spat, shifting his black stare to her. "As I recall, you were first on the bandwagon to close the case, Erin."


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N - I hope everyone is enjoying this new tale. Funny story that I had to share...as Tonnie and I worked on plot twist and storyline direction, we kicked around several ideas as we realized what exactly we'd gotten ourselves into with another epic. Thoughts of a freak meteorite hitting the BAU jet, an alien abduction and having JJ simply go insane and kill everyone were bandied about (just to give us a fast ending). But alas, we chose to stay on our chosen path. And we hope you enjoy it! Please shoot us a PM or review and let us know your thoughts!!**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Five**

"Based on the information we HAD then, David, the case WAS closed. And, if you recall, we were asked to leave," Erin said coolly from behind her desk, refusing to take the bait.

"Max warned us all," Dave retorted flatly, glancing around the room. "Some of us didn't want to listen…we wanted to chalk up our first case to a win and move on! Damn the consequences, right, Erin? You were spouting the Bureau's party line even then. Even when Gideon and I begged for more time…when Max pleaded with the higher ups to give us another couple of weeks. YOU were the one that told the Director that our work there was done! You went against all of us!"

"We were asked to LEAVE," Strauss reiterated slowly, her face void of emotion as she stared at her former team mates.

"And you made sure we did," Gideon growled, glaring at her from his chair.

"Look," Hotch said in a clear calm voice from his seat, the escalating anger obvious to all, "Taking this walk down memory lane now is going to accomplish nothing….not for JJ and not four our unsub's victims or potential victims."

"You don't think he's reached the end of the line with Agent Jareau?" Strauss asked with a raised brow, her fingers tapping together as she propped her hands on her desk.

"If he can't get JJ, he'll sublimate until he can," Dave muttered, throwing a dark look toward the woman.

"Which means more bodies," Gideon added, with a meaningful look at Hotch. "Which means I need to get inside JJ's head, Rossi."

"Fuck!" Dave spat, clenching his hands against the window sill as he stared out into the dark night, worry eating at the pit of his stomach. "Gideon, I swear to God…"

"I'll be careful, Dave," Gideon soothed, waving a hand in the air. "She's my friend, too."

"Be that as it may," Erin said, with a disdainful look between the two men, "It isn't either of you that will be making the decision here tonight."

"Then who will, Erin? You?" Rossi rapped out, turning to glare at her.

"No," Erin drawled, cocking one eyebrow. "The decision falls to Agent Hotchner, your Unit Chief. What's it to be, Agent Hotchner."

"I'd like to know the answer to that question, too," JJ interjected, her soft voice filling the room from the open doorway.

"She escaped us, ma'am," Reid chirped from behind her, his shoulders shrugging as he met the stern gaze of his Section Chief.

"It's fine, Doctor Reid," Erin replied waving a hand toward the newcomers. "You're excused. Agent Jareau, please come in," Strauss offered, gesturing toward an empty seat beside Jason. "Agent Hotchner was just going to make a decision regarding your participation on this case."

"So I heard," JJ murmured, dropping into the seat beside Jason as she felt Dave's eyes burning into her.

"JJ, are you sure you want to do this?" Hotch asked quietly, leaning forward slightly to look at his media liaison.

"Do I want to?" JJ laughed without humor as she perched on the edge of the edge of the seat, her spine stiffened. "No, Hotch, I don't want to do this. But what I want doesn't matter. There's a psychotic murderer out there that's killed twenty-nine victims, one of which was my baby sister. I need to do this. And whether you want to admit it or not, Gideon's right" she said, her voice firmer than she felt, her eyes meeting Dave's concerned stare, "You need me to do this."

Nodding, Hotch said slowly, "I'll agree to your coming along, JJ, on the condition that you understand that you will be there in a witness capacity. You can't handle the press on this one. You can consult, but someone else steps in front of the cameras."

Seeing JJ nod, Dave added, sharply, "And never, under any circumstances are you to go anywhere alone. One of us goes with you. Always."

"But-," JJ interjected, snapping her eyes to Rossi.

"It's not negotiable, Agent Jareau," Erin Strauss said firmly, leaning forward. "If you don't like our rules, you will remain here at the Bureau. Under constant protection as well."

"So, either way, I get a guard dog," JJ muttered, shoulders slumping slightly as she fought the sudden resurgence of emotion, the fear and anger and despair roiling again in her stomach.

"I think you're getting it now, JJ," Gideon nodded, keeping his eyes on the young blonde. "For whatever sick reason, you're his trophy. We have to protect you."

"The one that got away," she whispered, staring down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap, barely resisting the urge to curl up and hide again. "This has become a game of keep away, hasn't it?"

"It's no game," Dave said gruffly, eyes scanning the young woman that had become so important to him, searching for any signs of doubt she might have, anything he could use to hide her and protect her from the evil that was determined to find her.

"JJ?" Hotch prodded, cocking his head to the side as he waited for her answer.

"I'm going…under whatever conditions or restrictions you demand," JJ said softly, looking at her boss as she mentally fortified herself for the coming days.

"Okay, then," Hotch nodded once. "I'm going to check in with the others. Wheels up in an hour. Dave, you and Gideon work out who's staying with JJ until then."

Rising, Erin nodded. "Good luck to you all. You'll have the Bureau's full support."


	7. Chapter 6

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter 6**

Looking at Dave as they all stepped outside Erin Stauss' office, Hotch noticed the older man's still tense posture, his body language an obvious signal that he was less than thrilled with the turn of events. "It's for the best, Dave," Hotch stated, his tone low as JJ and Gideon walked slowly ahead of them toward the bullpen, the profiler matching his steps with the younger woman almost protectively.

"So you say," Dave muttered, his jaw clenching as he watched the tiny blonde's shoulders slump, her feet obviously plodding, her steps leaden. Throwing a dark glance at the younger man, he said, challengingly, "You realize we're leading her straight into the Devil's lair, don't you?"

"It may be the only way to coax the monster out, Dave. It would seem this bastard has gotten fairly proficient at blending into the shadows. We're only seeing him now because he wants us to," Hotch said regretfully, his suited shoulders shrugging as he followed Rossi's line of sight. "You know that I don't like the danger she's in any more than you do. For that matter, neither does Gideon. He wouldn't come back for just anybody."

"I know, Aaron," Dave conceded softly, forcing himself to tone down his anger, remembering that Hotch hadn't caused this situation or even been there for the original case. "It's just…," he hesitated, his eyes lingering on JJ, "I don't think she's quite as strong as you all give her credit for," Dave worried aloud, his voice hushed as he stopped in front of the metal staircase leading to their offices, his fingers wrapping around the well-worn metal. "You weren't there all those years ago, Hotch. You didn't see what I did."

"I know that, Dave, but based on what I read in the case file, JJ proved herself to be fairly resilient. She'd have to be in order to do this job," Hotch murmured quietly, his tone controlled. "And the simple fact is, we need her. Both of us know that Gideon is the best in his field. He's made extracting memories from the subconscious into an art form."

"I don't doubt Jason's competence, Aaron. I question his methods. That man has never learned when to back off," Dave offered, his voice a low growl, the horrors from those earlier days flitting at the edge of his memory once again.

"Sounds familiar," Hotch returned, raising a knowing brow at his friend. "Neither one of you was ever particularly adept at recognizing the wisdom of treading gently."

"The difference is that I never claimed the quality. Jason does. But you are right…if JJ has to do this, I wouldn't trust anybody else to do it with her," Dave muttered, stuffing a hand into his jean's pocket.

"That's good. Because we're all gonna have to place an incredible amount of faith in Gideon's abilities," Hotch nodded, his hand gripping the banister as he placed his foot on the first step.

"And hope that JJ has something worth remembering," Dave said under his breath, following in Hotch's footsteps.

"That, too," Hotch nodded. "You guys are gonna have to excuse me for a while. I need to call Jack and try and explain why daddy isn't coming home when I promised him I would be for the next month. And I need to touch base with the rest of the team."

Nodding, Dave shot Hotch a quick look, his eyes filled with understanding as he said, knowingly, "You don't have to do this, Hotch. Between Gid, me and Morgan, you could…"

"I'm Unit Chief again, Dave. My place is with all of you. Especially if one of our own is on the line. JJ stood by me during the Reaper's case. I won't do any less for her," Hotch replied evenly, his voice filled with the measured control that he had exhibited many times in the field.

Measuring the younger man in front of him, Dave smiled grimly, recognizing a certain stubbornness. "You're ba-ack," he drawled.

"I guess I am," Hotch sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Though I wish the circumstances on this one were different," he said softly, glancing at where JJ sat, staring forlornly into space as Gideon spoke quietly into his cell phone.

"That makes two of us," Dave nodded, watching Hotch proceed up the stairs before turning his gaze back to the normally vibrant woman behind Reid's desk. She looked small…and lost. Her eyes, while still stunningly beautiful, had lost that special spark that had always managed to catch his attention.

Rooted to the spot, he let his mind wander for a moment, the decades fading away as he once again found himself slipping back into the past, dragging her out of that house of horrors. That little girl had recovered as best as possible, he reminded himself, but yet, here she was, a fully grown woman, once again facing the demon that they had all assumed had been consigned to the pits of hell. Not for the first time in these past few hours, he realized that he would give his entire fortune, vast as it was, to take away her pain, to give her back any semblance of joy. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she had become that important to him. Jennifer Jareau had managed to invade his life in a way that none of his ex-wives ever had. Maybe it subconsciously was because of what had happened all those years ago, or maybe it was because she was just an amazing woman that touched a part of his soul that he didn't even realize was still there.

But whatever the case might be, he knew that he could never let her go. And in that moment, he realized there wasn't much that he wouldn't do to eradicate that sadness in her eyes. Unfortunately, though, he was also completely aware that while a sentimental thought, it was also entirely beyond his realm of control. The past was already set in stone, and the present had attacked them with a vengeance.

And he'd never hated a single truth more.


	8. Chapter 7

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seven**

Sitting behind his polished desk, Hotch eased back in his chair, gripping the phone at his ear tightly as he waited for his son to take the phone from his aunt. God, there wasn't anything he hated more than disappointing his young little boy. Though his reasons were noble, he knew there was no way the small child his boy was could comprehend his explanation, no amount of words capable of transcending the hurt that was sure to come. This would just be the most recent in a long line of postponements and broken promises he'd made to the kid. And he hated himself for it. It was times like these that his heart ached for his late ex-wife. Haley had always known just what to say to Jack to make it all better…or at any rate, less painful. He was a mere amateur next to her.

Hearing his son take the phone from his Aunt Jessica, Hotch held his breath as he heard Jack's youthful voice say exuberantly, "Hey, Daddy! Where are ya? You was supposed to be here forever ago!"

"Hey, Buddy," Hotch said, deliberately gentling and softening his voice, his eyes drawn to the small framed photo of his son that he kept front and center on his desk.

Recognizing the familiar timbre of his dad's voice, Jack sighed, a sound that conveyed a wisdom far beyond his few years. "You're not comin', are you?"

"Son, something important has come up," Hotch said patiently.

"Somethin' more 'portant than me?" Jack asked, his tone hurt and uncertain, his words rising at the end.

"Nothing is ever more important than you, Jack. You know that," Hotch said, grimacing at the tremble he heard in his little boy's voice.

"You gotta leave, dontcha?" Jack asked impatiently, his scoffed tennis shoe kicking against the floor of his aunt's kitchen as he spoke.

"I do, Jack," Hotch nodded, glancing again at the framed photograph of his smiling son on his desk. God knew, he doubted the little boy was smiling now.

"But you promised! You promised that we'd go see the new Toy Story movie with Aunt Emily, daddy!" Jack exploded, stomping his foot as he realized that daddy wouldn't be keeping his super solemn pledge that he'd made. "I went to bed without fightin' all week, just like I said. And I picked up my room, too!"

"You did, Jack. And you did a great job. I'm so proud of you. But this just can't be helped, son. There's a very bad guy out there that I need to help find. He's scaring Aunt JJ and I need to help your Uncle Dave, Uncle Morgan and Uncle Reid find him," Hotch explained patiently, wanting his son to understand the need.

"Are Aunt JJ and Aunt Emily goin', too?" Jack asked softly, pulling a small frown almost identical to the one his father wore.

"They are, Buddy," Hotch nodded. "But I promise, as soon as I get back, your Aunt Emily and I are going to take you to that movie. But, we've gotta help Aunt JJ first. You understand that, don't you?"

"I guess so," Jack replied, his voice small as it came across the phone lines. "I don't want the bad guy to get Aunt JJ like he gots Mommy."

"That bad guy is gone, Jack," Hotch reminded his son quickly, rubbing a hand across his throbbing forehead. "I promise he's gone. And none of us are gonna let anything happen to your Aunt JJ, okay?"

"Okay, daddy," Jack sighed. "I understand." He really didn't, but he didn't want his dad to feel any worse. He looked so sad most of the time as it was.

"Jack," Hotch whispered, "I'm so sorry, son." And he was, more than his words could ever express and for more than he hoped his little boy ever realized.

"It's 'kay, daddy. I get it," Jack replied, biting his lower lip between his teeth. He'd learned that no amount of fighting his father changed his mind. Better to just go along. His mommy had taught him that.

"You're such a big boy and I'm so proud of you, Champ," Hotch smiled, imagining his son's face, the bright eyes always trusting, always full of hope even on the worst of days.

"I gots to be," Jack shrugged. "Mommy said so 'fore she went away." Memories of his mommy always made his chest feel funny. Tight, kinda. But it didn't hurt so much anymore.

"Yeah, she did, didn't she?" Hotch said softly as Haley's laughing face flashed in his mind. She'd have known what to say to make their son feel better. She always had. Now, Jack was stuck with a pale imitation of the parent his ex-wife had been. She'd made the ultimate sacrifice for their child's safety. It should be her that had lived and his body in the cold earth, Hotch thought bitterly. But fate had taken a cruel turn and Jack now was left with the parent least prepared for the job ahead. Drawing in a shaky breath, Hotch swallowed before saying, promising, "Buddy, I'll find a way to make this up to you."

"I know you will, Daddy," Jack replied. He didn't want his dad to feel bad. He hated how sad he looked all the time. And now, he sounded that way, too. "You gots to go take care of Aunt JJ. I get it. Really."

"You're growing up so fast," Hotch sighed, always impressed by his son's ability to conform to most any situation. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"'kay," Jack nodded readily as he pressed his hand to the wall impatiently. Man, grown-ups sure could talk forever about nothing.

"And listen to your Aunt Jessica, all right?" Hotch warned even though he knew his son had been taught impeccable manners almost from the cradle. As a parent, it was his job to reinforce things.

"I will, Daddy. I love you," Jack replied.

"I love you, too, son. Goodnight, Jack," Hotch said quietly into the phone as he felt his throat swell.

"Night, Daddy," Jack said, hanging up.

Sitting in his quiet office, only muffled sounds outside his door intruding, Hotch dropped his head into his hands, suddenly overwhelmingly tired. He knew why he did the job he'd chosen…but sometimes the sacrifices seemed to outweigh any good he did in the world. And he was terrified the one person he loved most was going to suffer for it.

Staring at his closed door, he thought about JJ. The hopeful, optimistic woman he'd hired six years ago as his media liaison was as close to him as a sister. She, too, was suffering for things beyond her control. And it was going to get so much worse for her. Shaking his head again, he sighed. No, sometimes life wasn't fair to anyone at all.


	9. Chapter 8

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eight**

Looking up as he heard a light rap against his wooden door, Hotch smiled slightly as he watched Emily Prentiss poke her raven head inside. "Hey, am I interrupting?" she asked softly.

Shaking his head, he gestured for her to come inside. "No," he assured her, his smile turning sardonic. "I was just sitting here gathering my thoughts and trying to convince myself that I'm not the world's worst father."

Smiling gently, Emily eased into the chair in front of her desk, her ankles crossed. "I take it Jack didn't take these unexpected events any better than the rest of us, huh?"

"He put on a brave face," Hotch murmured, staring down at the calendar on his desk, his eyes mindlessly tracing the lines as he tried to place time and space. Jesus, had it really been almost six months since they'd buried Haley? At times like this, it felt like it had happened yesterday.

"He's a brave little boy," Emily replied supportively in response. "Like his father," she added, tilting her head as she studied the man in front of her. "Hotch, this isn't your fault. It's part of the job. In time, Jack is going to understand that."

"Did you, Emily?" Hotch asked, raising curious eyes to her level gaze, her words drawing his attention. "All the years your parents traveled the world and left you behind…did you ever understand why they were doing it? What they were doing it for?"

"Hotch," Emily said softly, "I had an entirely different kind of childhood. I though the nanny was my mother and the butler was my father until I was three. Elizabeth and Marcus Prentiss were just these strange cold people that occasionally popped up for a visit. You give Jack a warm and loving environment. When you're here AND when you're not. He loves his Aunt Jessica and Aunt Penelope. And they adore him. YOU are NOTHING like my parents…and Jack's childhood is worlds apart from what mine was."

"And you very neatly evaded my question," Hotch smiled grimly, raising a brow at her as he tapped his pen against the desk, his entire countenance telling her that he expected more from her answer.

"No, Hotch, I didn't understand. And by the time I did understand…there was so much distance between my parents and me that I never made the effort to try and recover more than the stilted relationship that we have now. But YOU aren't in that situation and neither is your son." Pausing, she made sure that she had his full attention before she continued, her dark gaze latching onto his as she leaned forward slightly. "Hotch, you're an involved parent whether you're here or not. There's a huge difference."

"For example?" Hotch queried, unwilling to pass up this rare opportunity to delve into Emily Prentiss' mysterious past.

Inhaling deeply, Emily narrowed her eyes. "O-kay…for example, you phone your child every morning and every night when we're out on a case. And that's not a recent development. You did it even before Haley died."

"Your point, Prentiss?" Hotch prodded, amazed that she knew his routine so well, especially considering the fact that since Foyet, he had made a conscious effort to alter his schedule on a regular basis.

"Ask me how many times my mother or father called me when they were out on their diplomatic missions," Emily ordered, crossing her arms over her chest as she settled back in the chair, her set face informing him of more than her words ever could.

Watching her face, Hotch obediently asked, his voice hushed, "How many, Emily?"

"None, Hotch. Absolutely none…from birth to the day I left for college, I was an afterthought….an incidental addition to their lives that they never really wanted. Huge differences," she stressed, leaning forward again to level him with a meaningful look.

"Point taken," Hotch averred softly, nodding once.

"Thank you. But I had no intention of taking a walk down memory lane when I came in here," Emily smiled, satisfied as she watched some of the tension slip from his face.

Leaning back in his leather chair, Hotch rolled his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension that appeared to have taken up residence in his spine. "Why did you seek me out?"

"I wanted to check on JJ. I don't know Gideon well enough to ask him and currently, Rossi's taking JJ to her apartment to pack a go bag…none of us were planning on getting called out this soon and a few of us were caught off guard. I take it she's going with us to Pennsylvania?" Emily asked, almost hoping that Hotch would deny it. Having another one of their close knit group being so close to a danger that was obviously intent on reaching out for them was one idea that turned Emily's stomach. Unfortunately, as a profiler, she could see the definitive benefits of having JJ along for this case. But the friend in her screamed against the injustice of asking someone that had been the only surviving victim of an obviously motivated unsub to revisit her past.

"She's going , Emily. We all made it clear that it was her choice, but she wants to help," Hotch stated quietly, solemnly.

"I'd imagine she does…she's got more motivation than any of us to see this through to the end. He murdered her sister. That alone would be enough to make me want to see justice done. But, God, Aaron, she was his victim, too," Emily whispered, her words trailing off at the end.

"Which is why she'll be on this case in a consulting capacity only. And as a witness. Gideon seems to think he can retrieve some of JJ's suppressed memories and perhaps, give us a break in the case," Hotch explained, mindlessly straightening the files on his desk.

"And Rossi? What's he think about that idea?" Emily asked. Always perceptive, she'd sensed that the older profiler felt something more than mere professional respect for their colleague for months. She'd seen on more than one occasion the way his eyes seemed to follow JJ's movements…the way his face seemed to relax when she'd walk into a room. JJ obviously reached a part of the man that others couldn't, which might not be an asset for them if this case turned more difficult than it already was.

"He's less than thrilled," Hotch muttered, his eyes flickering. "In all seriousness, you might have to help me pull those two off each other."

"Rossi and Gideon or Rossi and JJ?" Emily asked, her lips quirking. Damn, maybe she should take bets instead, an entire Bureau definitely more than willing to take those odds. She could probably supplement her retirement on that wager.

" Either…both…," Hotch grunted. "Gideon and Rossi could barely get along fifteen years ago when I joined the Bureau…and their relationship hasn't improved with the passage of time. And as for JJ and Rossi…hell, Emily, I'm not sure what's going to develop there."

"That'll make for some interesting moments, I'm sure," Emily murmured, trying not to chuckle at the mental image of David Rossi and Jason Gideon in a cage fight.

"I think this case will be providing us with enough of those," Hotch groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly before focusing on Emily's attractive face again. "And I'm gonna need a little something extra from you this time around, Emily."

"That sounds intriguing," Emily replied, shifting in her seat as she felt Hotch's penetrating gaze on her.

"I need you to take point with the press. For obvious reasons, we can't send JJ out there," Hotch began, his voice filled with a sigh as he thought again of his blonde media liaison.

"Of course not," Emily nodded, mentally shuddering at the idea of JJ trying to run the floor on this case. They might as well paint a bulls-eye on her back.

"And God knows I don't want Rossi talking to them," Hotch muttered, barely controlling the shake of his shoulders at that thought. "Reid isn't exactly user friendly and Morgan comes off as too gruff. If JJ can't do this, you're the perfect choice and JJ will be there to coach you through it."

"Of course," Emily agreed, "Whatever you or JJ need me to do."

"I appreciate that, Emily. I always have," Hotch said, offering her a rare smile. "Now," he sighed, pushing away from the desk, "I guess I need to go ready the rest of our troops."


	10. Chapter 9

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Nine**

Staring out the fogged passenger seat window of David Rossi's SUV, JJ could feel the older man's eyes studying her hunched form, his gaze piercing her reverie every so often. Not a new experience, really. They'd been covertly stealing glances at each other for months, their eyes meeting at unusual times, their gazes holding just a bit longer than was necessary. But that was as far as it had gone. Only she was fairly certain that it wasn't masculine interest reflected in his eyes at this juncture. It was unadulterated worry, plain and simple.

And she hated it.

She'd never wanted to be perceived as weak…as a victim. It was her job to console the victims, to assure the victims, to provide resolution for the victims. Not to BE the victim. But she suspected it wouldn't only be his eyes staring at her in that way once this case got underway. She'd have a team full of curious, compassionate eyes looking at her that way.

Pitying her.

"Could you please stop looking at me that way, Dave," she sighed, twisting her hands in her lap as he executed a right turn onto her dimly lit street on the outskirts of the Capital.

"What way is that?" he asked quietly in return, straightening the wheel as he slowed the vehicle in deference to the posted residential speed limit.

"Like you're expected me to either blow a gasket or fall apart at any second," she muttered, staring down at her hands, pulling harshly at a unusually ragged cuticle.

Pulling into her short driveway, Dave shifted the vehicle into park and clicked the headlights off before turning to look at her face, pale in the waning moon's light. "No one would blame you if you did. In fact, if you ask me, it seems sorta unnatural that you haven't."

His calm, assured voice rumbled in the cab of the truck, wrapping around her as she felt her lips tightening. "What good would it do? It wouldn't change anything," she said softly, lifting her eyes to glance toward her front door as she shrugged one shoulder, the seat belt sliding against her sweater.

"No," Dave said slowly, "It wouldn't. But it might make you feel better," he suggested, watching her face, the neutral mask she wore holding well. How long had she kept that particular disguise in place, he thought idly? How long had she forced herself to become the woman that she was, to impassively deal with the horrors that they saw on a daily basis without letting her façade fade?

"There's only one thing that's going to make me feel better," she replied, her voice resolute in the still SUV. "Finding the man that murdered my little sister."

"We can do that without your participation on this, Jen," Dave said, striving to keep his voice even with her, to not berate her. But, damn, but he wanted her to stay behind. At least here, he knew that she would be provided with a small measure of safety. And he wanted that sense of security, for both of their sakes.

"I can't not be a part of this, Dave," JJ stated flatly, reaching for her car door as she deftly slid off the seatbelt. "He made me his starring player twenty-five years ago. And now he wants an encore. The only way to draw him out is to give him one."

"You're suggesting using yourself as bait," Dave replied gruffly, clicking off his own restraint as he jerked open his door, slamming the catch with more force than necessary.

"If that's what it takes," JJ shrugged again, grabbing her purse from the floorboard.

"Not happening, Jen," Dave stated firmly. If that's what she had in her mind, he could disabuse her of the notion right now. "You're gonna be kept as far away from that bastard as I and the others can possibly manage."

"I don't want to argue right now, Dave," JJ murmured tiredly, the effects of the scotch she imbibed earlier weighing heavily on her, her eyes blinking a few times to adjust to the growing darkness. Draping her bag over her shoulder, she spared him a quick look, "And I could have done this on my own. You didn't need to play chauffeur for me. I was perfectly capable of packing a go bag on my own," she chided over her shoulder as she climbed out of the cab, her feet carefully stepping against her wellworn walk.

Slamming his door, he quickly followed her up the flagstone path leading to her door. "And I thought Hotch, Gideon and I made the rules real clear earlier, Jen. Under no circumstances at any time are you to attempt to go anywhere unaccompanied."

"Dave, our unsub is in Pennsylvania," JJ sighed, trying to slide her key into the lock with a shaky hand, sighing as she realized she had the key upside down.

"No, we know he dumped his last body in Pennsylvania. That's the only thing we know with certainty," Dave corrected, brushing aside her hand to perform the task himself when he noticed the tremble in her fingertips. "I think George Foyet proved to us exactly how elusive and cunning a determined unsub can be, Jen. We're not taking any chances this time around. Not with you," he said, pushing open her front door and flipping on the light, bathing the entryway in a soft glow. Allowing her to pass after he did a quick scan of the room, he asked, "How long do you think you'll need?"

"Not long," JJ said with a quick shake of her head, the twinge of a headache pinching the back of her neck. "I just need to gather a few things," she murmured, glancing toward the hallway. Gesturing at her cozy living room, she muttered, "Make yourself at home. I'll do this as quickly as I can."

Nodding, Dave sighed as he watched her slowly trudge down her short hallway toward what he assumed was her bedroom. Her every movement seemed to cost the young woman more energy than she had to spare. And for perhaps the hundredth time this evening, he wished there was a way to convince the determined woman to stay behind. Knowing that the effort would be futile, he simply shook his head, dropping to one of the easy chairs in the room to wait.

And he had a feeling that waiting, nerve-wracking as it could be, was going to be a vital part of their future.


	11. Chapter 10

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ten**

Closing her bedroom door with a soft click, JJ leaned wearily against the dark wood, resting her head against the hard surface as she looked around the room. Spotting her empty black carry-on in the corner, she slowly pushed away from the wood behind her back, forcing one foot in front of the other. Telling herself to focus on the task at hand, she swept the leather bag into her hand and dropped it on the bed. Mindlessly gathering her toiletries as she moved about the bedroom, she allowed herself to wonder for a moment how long they'd be gone. She hoped this was a quick case to solve, but somehow she doubted it. Given the fact that their unsub had spent the last twenty-five years collecting victims without drawing attention to himself, she knew that in all likelihood they were in for a long haul.

Delving deeper into her closet for her warmer clothes, mindlessly pulling out items, her eyes spotted a glass set of eyes staring at her from the shelf above her sweaters. Her movements stopped, her gaze drawn to that one object, everything else fading into oblivion. God, how long had it been since she'd thought about Thunder? Months? Years? Without conscious thought, she slowly extended her hand, wrapping it around the soft stuffed animal as she pulled it down, tucking it protectively against her chest..

Eyes filling with tears as she slowly carried it across the room, JJ dropped onto her queen size bed as she stared down at the obviously worn brownish-red stuffed horse in her hand. Every time she looked at the well-used toy in her hand, her memories transported her to the same moment in time. A happy time. When her family was happy and their lives were complete. To a time when she hadn't known what real pain was, hadn't experienced the horrors that no child should ever know. Feeling a tear trickle down her cheek, JJ absently swiped it away as she smoothed her other hand over the soft mane of the horse resting in her lap.

Lacy had loved this stupid toy. So much. She'd steadfastly refused to go anywhere without it, dragging it from house to farm to playhouse and back. Biting her lip, JJ remembered the last time Lacy had held the toy in her tiny hands. The day they'd been taken…JJ's last memory of her unfractured family. Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to carry her back to those last precious moments she could remember spending with her baby sister.

**~*~**

"_Daddy, please!" JJ begged, pulling at her father's strong arm as he sat at the kitchen table, nursing his second cup of coffee as he read the paper in his hand._

"_Yeah, Daddy, pweease!" Lacy begged, standing beside her, a smaller carbon copy of her older sister. "I wanna go, too!"_

"_Girls, I just checked," Locke McClellan said patiently, looking down at the girls shifting impatiently in front of him, unable to resist smiling at the blonde heads and blue eyes staring up at him. "Snowball still hasn't had her baby. And Thunder's leg is bothering him something fierce."_

"_Daddy, please!" JJ said, excitedly bobby up and down on her sneakered feat, her pigtails swinging back and forth, "Just one quick trip down to the stables. I'll be fast! I just wanna make sure," she pleaded, pressing her chin against her daddy's arm._

"_Me, too. Me, too," Lacy chanted, her pale head bobbing up and down._

_Rolling her eyes at her sister, JJ met her father's eyes. "Come on, daddy. I'm a big girl!"_

"_What did your mama say?" Locke asked, eyeing the little girls in front of him with a pointed look. _

"_She said it was up to you," the girls replied in unison._

"_All right," Locke sighed, surrendering to the combined wills of his six and four year old daughters. "Straight there and back. JJ, the bus will be here soon and I don't cotton to havin' to be late to work cause I had to carry you to school. Keep an eye on your baby sister and mind that neither one of you touch Thunder anywhere but his head. His hind leg is still sore from that fall he took in the north pasture. Vet's gonna come check him over sometime today," Locke told them both, laying down the ground rules, looking both of his girls in the eyes as he made sure that they were listening._

"_Okay, daddy!" JJ grinned, grabbing her coat from the back of her chair, struggling to get her arms in quickly. "Come on, Lacy," JJ huffed impatiently as Lacy ran to grab her stuffed animal. Rolling her eyes at her sister again as she zipped up her jacket, JJ asked, "Gosh, Lacy, do you gotta carry that thing everywhere?"_

"_It's Thunder," Lacy frowned, stroking the small stuffed animal. "He goes where I goes. I don't want him to get lonely!" she declared, shoving her stuffed horse under her arm._

"_You're SUCH a baby!" JJ accused, slamming her little girl hands to her little girl hips._

"_Jennifer, don't tease your baby sister," Locke admonished with a pointed look over his paper to his eldest child._

"_Yes, Daddy," JJ muttered, properly chastised, turning quickly in the kitchen. "Come on, Lace! I gotta hurry!" JJ said, running out the door, her baby sister at her heals._

"_Stay together, Girls!" Locke called after his daughters as their little feet ran out the kitchen door. "And JJ, watch your baby sister!"_

_Running across the grassy field to the stables in the distance, JJ heard Lacy yelling for her to slow down. "Hurry up, Slow Poke," JJ yelled over her shoulder, her sneakered feet sliding slightly against the dew-covered groundcover._

"_I can't help it," Lacy panted, struggling to keep up. "You gots longer legs!"_

_Throwing open the stable door, JJ smiled as the earthy scent of fresh hay teased her nostrils. "Snowball! Thunder!" she yelled, running into the wooden structure, her eyes immediately shifting toward the stalls to the right._

"_Is there a baby Snowball yet?" Lacy shouted, running in after her sister, skidding to a halt beside JJ in front of Snowballs stall. _

"_Nope," JJ shook her head, climbing up on the wooden gate and peering over the top as she rubbed Snowball's soft head. "Not yet!"_

"_I wanna see Thunder, JJ," Lacy complained, pulling at the back of her sister's jacket._

"_Well, go look!" JJ said over her shoulder, irritated, not wanting to miss a moment with her favorite horse. "Just remember what Daddy said. No touching anywhere 'sides Thunder's head."_

"_Okay," Lacy shrugged, running down the long corridor to the other end of the stable, her feet crunching against the hay on the ground._

_Rolling he eyes at her pet, JJ muttered, "Little sisters are the pits, Snowball." Moments later, JJ heard Lacy's shrill scream echo through the barn. "Lacy!?" she shouted, causing Snowball to jerk underneath her touch. Hearing a faint whinny in the distance, JJ quickly hopped down from the gate, running through the corridor towards Thunder's stall. "Lacy! Lacy!" Stopping abruptly as she saw a shadow move in the corner of one of the empty stalls, JJ yelled, worriedly, "Lacy, is that you?"_

_Running inside, she screamed as a masked man grabbed her around the neck, swinging her against the wooden wall, her head hitting it with a crunch that echoed against her forehead. And the last thing she remembered seeing was her sister's still body crumpled in the corner._

**~*~**

"JJ? JJ!" Dave called from outside the closed bedroom door. Hearing nothing from inside the room, he quickly pushed open the door, stepping inside and immediately found JJ's still form, sitting on the bed, clutching a worn stuffed animal as she stared into space, tears pouring silently down her pale cheeks.

Moving softly across the room, careful not to spook her, he tried again. "Jen?" Kneeling in front of her, he watched as she stared sightlessly ahead, locked in her memories. Chafing her cold hands, he hardened his voice as he said, "Jennifer!"

Jerking, as his voice penetrated the fog of her mind, JJ slid quickly back into reality, staring into the concerned eyes of her co-worker. Clearing her throat, she blinked as she said, almost absently, "Sorry, Dave. Did you need something?"

"Yeah," Dave nodded, keeping his voice as calm as possible. "I need to know where you went there for a few minutes because you sure as hell weren't here," he asked, mentally shivering as he tried to forget that blank look she'd had in her eyes there for a few seconds. He'd seen her look that way once before and he'd hated it then, too. But now, it seemed to be worse than before, the present danger adding to the horrors of the past.

"I guess I was just caught up in my memories for a moment," she muttered, slowly pulling her hands from his grip as she looked around, trying to orient herself, to gain some foothold in her shifting reality.

"I could see that," he said quietly, watching her face, some of the color slowly returning. Gently taking the stuffed animal from her hands, he asked, "Who's this?"


	12. Chapter 11

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter 11**

Sniffling, JJ wiped her eyes again as she leaned toward her nightstand to grab a tissue. Blowing her nose, JJ crumpled the tissue in her hand as she forced her eyes back to the stuffed animal he held gently in his hands. "He's Lacy's," JJ whispered, drawing a tentative finger over the ragged tail. "His name is Thunder."

"Thunder, huh?" Dave murmured, smiling slightly as his knees suddenly protested their position against the hard floor of her bedroom. Putting a hand on JJ's firm mattress, he hoisted himself up, moving to sit behind her on the bed, his thigh pressing warmly against hers as he settled himself beside her. Offering her a sideways look, he bumped her shoulder lightly as he asked gently, "You wanna tell me about him?"

Biting her lip as she felt tears pricking behind her closed eyes, JJ struggled to find her voice, shaky and husky when she began speaking. "Thunder was Lacy's horse. Snowball was mine," she said tremulously, the words hanging in the air as she tried to regain what little composure she had.

Nodding, Dave lifted one hand to rub her back soothingly. "You two grew up on a farm if I remember correctly," he said softly, trying to ignore how fragile her spine felt underneath his hand, her body cool to his touch.

JJ nodded mutely as she opened her eyes, focusing on the stuffed horse he held in one strong hand. "Lacy carried that thing everywhere," she said in a whisper, nodding at the toy. "She was carrying it the day she…the day he…," JJ broke off, clenching the tissue in her hands helplessly, her fingers shredding the edges into dust.

"The day you were both kidnapped by the unsub," Dave finished for her, his voice deep and tender in the quiet room, knowing that she obviously needed this moment, this recollection.

"Yeah. She dropped it in the stable…," JJ whispered brokenly. "It was so damned stupid," she said after a moment of silence, squeezing her eyes shut as she shook her head. "And all my fault," she added faintly, her words almost lost.

"Honey, no," Dave said immediately, shaking his head as he chafed his hand against her back, rubbing slow rhythmic circles against her delicate skin, hoping to transfer a bit of warmth into her chilled body. "Nothing then or now was your fault," he denied evenly.

"You don't understand," JJ replied tremulously, leaning against him, feeling guilty that she allowed herself a small measure of comfort in his touch. God knew, she didn't deserve to be comforted. She didn't deserve anyone's compassion.

"Explain it to me then," Dave suggested, his voice hushed as his eyes tenderly watched her averted face now staring at the wall. How the hell had she gotten it into that stubborn mind of hers that she could possibly have been responsible for the actions of a deranged lunatic at the ripe old age of six years old? How had someone not realized this destructive path before now?

"I was supposed to be watching her…protecting her," JJ answered, her voice a bare thread of sound in the room. "He got to her first…maybe if we'd stayed together like Daddy always told us to." Looking up into Dave's kind eyes, JJ whispered, "He reminded us – that morning – he told us to stay together." Tearing her eyes away from his steady reassuring gaze, she whispered, sorrowfully, "But I didn't listen. I told her to go check on her horse by herself."

"JJ, sweetheart," Dave said, covering one of her shaking hands with his own, trailing his thumb against her skin, "You were just a child yourself. Neither one of you did a thing wrong."

"But I did! Maybe if he'd seen me first, he'd have left her alone," JJ said, her voice cracking as she bobbed her head once. "But he didn't," she continued hoarsely. "He found her first." Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to go on. "I heard her scream," JJ recalled hoarsely, her eyes closing at the painful memory, but the words kept coming. "I remember that it set the horses whinnying. I was running as fast as I could toward Thunder's stall. I thought maybe she'd fallen over the gate and I remember thinking that Daddy was gonna be so mad at me for letting her get hurt."

Watching as JJ's eyes opened again to stare vacantly ahead, Dave squeezed her hand gently, drawing her attention back to the present, back to him. "Then what, Jen?"

Shaking her head, JJ pulled herself back from those horrible images in her mind, forcing herself to take a breath. "I was calling for her as I ran, but she didn't answer. Then, I saw something…a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I must have thought it was Lacy playing tricks and I turned toward it," JJ said, breaking off as her eyes clouded at that last horrible memory, the shadows of the past suddenly invading the present once again.

Waiting, giving her time to process, to move beyond the pain, he finally prompted, softly, "Jen?"

Her whole body jerked, a shiver sliding down her spine as she whispered, "She was crumpled in the corner of one of the empty stalls…just laying there. I remember screaming. And somebody in a black mask slinging me against the wall. And then…nothing. Not until…"

"Until we found you," Dave supplied softly, watching her face tense, her lips tighten.

"I can't think about that right now," JJ whispered violently, tightening her fingers around his, her nails digging into his calloused palms.

Seeing her pale even further in front of his eyes, Dave shook his head, tugging on her hand as he did. "Then you don't have to," he said firmly, his hardened tone pulling her gaze to his again, forcing her to focus on something other than the horrors in her mind. "You don't have to," he said more softly, inching her closer on the soft comforter.

"It's my fault, Dave," JJ whispered brokenly, the words literally choking her as she fought for breath.

"JJ, I want you to listen very carefully to me," Dave said slowly, pulling her closer as he shifted one arm to wrap around her, waiting for her breath to slow. "You and your sister were children. Neither one of you are responsible for anything that happened. You were BOTH victims."

"And yet, I lived and she didn't," JJ replied, shuddering, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Yes, you did," Dave agreed readily. "But I know for a fact that not a single soul on earth blames you for anything that happened besides you, Babe. We both know what this is called. Hell, we've seen it enough times."

Wiping her eyes, JJ muttered, "If you say "Survivor's Guilt", I'm gonna hit you."

"I don't have to say it, Jen. You just said it for me," Dave shrugged, smiling down at her bent head, glad that she was showing any emotion other than the sheer agony that had been gripping her.

Fiddling with the tissue now shredded in her hands, JJ shook her head. "It doesn't matter what label you give it, Dave. It's how I feel. And I think the only thing that's gonna help is putting this monster down."

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he squeezed her gently, Dave nodded. "Then that's what we're going to do. Now, finish packing your bag, Jen," he ordered, passing the stuffed animal back to her. "I'm going to go make sure the rest of this place is locked down."


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N – Please ya'll, for those of you who have time, please let us know what you think about this story. We'd be very interested to know. Thanks so much! **

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twelve**

Pausing before the heavy metal door, Hotch took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself. Shaking his head, he reminded himself, for the eighth time today, that his team were professionals and would treat this as any other case. And he would need to guide them, to maintain solid leadership. No matter how much his own memories, his own horrors, were trying to encroach.

Pushing open the heavy entryway, he realized immediately that he had interrupted a very heated conversation. By the look of anger in Morgan's eyes and the defiance on Garcia's face, Hotch knew that whatever his team had been discussing, they were not in agreement. Reid's tall lanky body stood between the couple, obviously serving as some sort of referee to whatever battle they were currently embroiled in.

Seeing his Unit Chief framed in the metal doorway, Reid let out an obvious sigh of relief as he said, relief breathing into his every word, "Oh, thank God. Hotch is here. "

"What's going on?" Hotch asked carefully, stepping into Garcia's crowded office, his eyes trained on his obviously distressed agents.

"She's being unreasonable is what –" Morgan snapped out, his eyes flashing, never leaving the face of their technical genius.

"He's being an overprotective –" Penelope began at the same time, her hands propped on her ample hips, her foot tapping loudly against the tile floor.

Raising a hand decisively, Hotch interrupted, his eyebrows raised as he said, "One at a time, people." Turning to Garcia, he said calmly, "Is there something wrong that you need to tell me about, Garcia?"

"Three words. I. AM. GOING. Period. Finito. End of discussion," Garcia bit out, popping a finger into the air to punctuate each word. As Aaron Hotchner opened his mouth to reply, Garcia lifted her whole hand in the air, a silent stop sign, "Not done yet! I don't care what this, pompous, albeit, handsome jerk says," she growled, jerking her coiffed head toward Derek Morgan, "I am going. There's no way in hell I'm leaving my poor, frazzled little gumdrop at the mercy of this crackpot bunch of profilers. You all may be brilliant, but your nurturing skills are severely lacking. So, no. Nuh uh, not on my watch!"

"Garcia-," Hotch began, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he realized his team was not in jeopardy. Well, he amended himself, not in any more jeopardy than it already was.

"No! Boss Man, I swear, I will quit the Bureau and hitch a ride to Pennsylvania with a convoy of truckers to ride shotgun on this case before I agree to stay here! JJ is going to need ALL our support and in case you all missed it," she said, looking around at the three men surrounding her, her gaze definitely less than thrilled at the specimens before her, "you guys aren't the most touchy feely men on the planet."

"Hey, Mama, I beg to-," Morgan grinned, his arms crossed over his muscled chest.

"Don't say it, Derek Morgan," Penelope huffed. "You know exactly what I meant by that remark," she frowned at him, shaking a finger in his direction. "NONE of you do the feelings portion of the program. Not anyone here and not anyone else that's gonna be on that jet is capable of extending one ounce of feminine sympathy to my precious little peep. Except maybe for Emily…and she's gonna need reinforcements. That's gonna be me. Got it?" she asked, daring any man in the room to disagree with her assertions.

"Baby Girl, there's gonna be a deranged psycho out there gunning for Jayje as it is. I really don't wanna have to split my time worrying about you, too," Morgan muttered, his jaw flinching as he trained his eyes on the woman, concern coloring his every word.

"Learn to multi-task," Penelope fired back, her tone determined as she tapped her manicured nails against her colorful skirt. "Just like everybody else does it, and you're talented. I'm going, Derek. Tell him, Boss Man," she said, shooting Hotch an angry look.

"They've been like this ever since you adjourned the meeting, Hotch," Reid groaned, dragging his fingers through his hair once again. "I thought I was going to have to call for Security earlier when Garcia threatened to stuff him in the recycling bin and send him to the compactor."

"Didn't I tell you to unhook those cables behind you, Boy Wonder?" Penelope glared at him, her hand waving in the direction of the computers in question.

"Yes, then Morgan told me that he'd break my fingers if I touched one cord. He seemed fairly serious," Reid replied, shooting a worried look toward his colleague, his hands clenched in front of him. He added, softly, "And he's slightly bigger than me, Garcia, in case you haven't noticed."

"I AM serious," Morgan grunted darkly, then turned his steady gaze toward Hotch. Cocking his dark head to the side, he said, "It's up to you, Hotch."

"NO, people, it's up to me," Penelope insisted, her foot tapping again, "because no matter what any of you say, I'm going with JJ."

"Pack what you need, Garcia," Hotch replied calmly, his eyes glancing around the room at each of his team members. "But be quick about it. We have wheels up in thirty minutes. You can have whatever you leave behind messengered to you."

Pausing as he caught the triumphant look crossing her face, Hotch warned, strongly, "BUT, you will be working out of the office. No field work. And you can't interfere with Rossi and Gideon. I'm going to have my hands full with them as it is." Shaking his head, he barely resisting the urge to sigh as the thoughts of the dynamic duo filled his mind again.

"But…," Garcia frowned, her painted lips compressing into a pout as she started to object.

"Listen to the man, Mama," Morgan interjected, his gaze steady on the blonde beside him. "This is the best option you're going to get."

"Morgan's right, Garcia. That's the deal, take it or leave it," Hotch warned, meeting her belligerent gaze. "Your technological assistance on this case will be invaluable, and your presence will be a win-win. But JJ is going to have some unpleasant moments ahead of her…arguing among ourselves isn't going to help her.

"Fine," Garcia muttered as she turned back to her desk, shoving her laptop into a bag, slapping the safety straps into place with ease. Stopping suddenly, she turned on her heel as she warned, "But if Jason Gideon breaks my little Buttercup…"

"He won't, Garcia. But we all have to let him have some room to do his job," Hotch stated evenly. "Which he is highly capable of doing. Without our interference."

"Has anybody told Agent Rossi that?" Reid asked curiously, his fingers gingerly reaching for the computer cables, one eye watching Morgan for any response as he wrapped the pull ties into place.

"And can I be there when you do?" Morgan added with a grin, his posture far more relaxed than it had been earlier. "Strauss' secretary told us that things got heated during that little meeting with the Section Chief earlier."

"And they're bound to become more so as the case progresses," Hotch nodded, verifying the report. "That's why it's important to have everyone else on the same page, working toward the common goal like we always do." he said, looking at all their faces. "Given the intricacies of this situation, though, Emily is gonna run the press when we get there," Hotch informed them.

"Oh, thank you, Jesus," Morgan said, pumping a fist in the air, relieved he was off the hook, his previous experiences with a rabid press having taught him to avoid that job at all costs.

Biting back a smile at his agent's response, Hotch nodded, "Somehow I knew you'd feel that way, Morgan. We'll talk about everybody else's assignments once we get airborne. Be at the airstrip in thirty," he ordered, turning toward the door, his hand reaching for the knob.

"Boss Man?" Garcia called him back, her voice quiet, strained, a marked difference from her earlier tone.

Turning, Hotch met her clouded eyes, noticing her once frantic hands had come to a standstill. "Yes, Garcia?"

"We'll get him, right, sir? This unsub?" Penelope asked uncertainly, blindly reaching a hand toward Morgan.

Watching as Derek wrapped an arm around the technical analyst, Hotch forced himself to nod, to exude a confidence that he didn't quite feel. "There's too much on the line for us even to contemplate failure. Not again," he said softly before walking slowly out the door, his footsteps taking him back into the heart of the unit.

And back into the fray that was about to face them all.


	14. Chapter 13

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter 13**

Settling into the bucket seat, Dave frowned deeply as he stared at the small woman fitfully dozing on the long bench seat across from him. Deep shadows had already begun to form underneath her eyes. And even in sleep, her eyebrows were furrowed, worried, her forehead pinched. Watching as she shivered in her sleep, he shrugged off his jacket, stepping quickly to drape it gently over her small body, tucking the edges around her. Smoothing a hand over her hair, he resumed his seat, smiling as he watched her offer a soft sigh and burrow her nose against his soft jacket.

Content to merely stare at her, to assure himself that she was safe, he jerked sharply as he heard a voice behind him. And his jaw clenched as he recognized the voice.

"If you're done playing nursemaid back here," Gideon drawled sarcastically, propping against the edge of a seat, "we've sort of got a briefing to get through up here. Wanna join us?"

"I'll be there in a second," Dave replied gruffly, casting his eyes back at the dozing woman, watching as her hand crept out, her fingers tightening around the sleeve of his jacket.

"You gonna wake her up?" Gideon asked impatiently after a second, his eyes flitting side to side as he took in the scene before him.

"No, I'm not," Dave replied softly, turning to meet Gideon's eyes with a cold stare. "And neither are you," Dave added deliberately, his tone brooking no argument. "She deserves the rest, especially when I know what you're gonna be putting her through shortly."

"Dave, you and I both know that the sooner we begin the process-," Gideon began, his tone bordering on edgy.

Rising from his seat to face his counterpart, Dave raised a brow as he took a step in Gideon's direction. "You really wanna push me on this? About her? Now?" Dave asked dangerously, narrowing his eye at the man in front of him, his jaw tightening.

"I really want to get the answers we need and find the unsub before he kills anybody else," Gideon replied evenly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he maintained his stance. "And I need her," he said, nodding toward a sleeping JJ, "to do it. And she needs to do it, Rossi."

"Not now, Jason," Rossi replied softly, his eyes convening messages that his words never could. "She's tired and she's overwhelmed. I won't let you push her into something she's obviously not physically capable of withstanding. You can start chasing monsters in the shadows tomorrow. For tonight, she rests."

Taking a half step toward his colleague, Jason tilted his head, measuring. "Tell me the truth, Dave. Are you sleeping with her? Is that the reason for this sudden surge of protectiveness?"

"Go to hell, Jason," Dave snapped angrily, his fists gripping violently at his side.

"That wasn't a "no"," Jason prodded, his hands tightening on the seat as the plane took a slight dive, his feet shifting to rebalance. "And I don't need to tell you that if your objectivity has been compromised…"

"The only thing that's going to be compromised is your jaw when my fist connects with it," Dave said, smiling grimly as he relished the thought. "And as for objectivity…I'd say we both lost that the second we realized that we'd already covered this ground once before, twenty-five years ago. We know the fucking victim. BOTH our objectivities are out the window, don't you think, Jason?"

"Perhaps," Jason said, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment. "But only one of us here is coddling the witness."

"You mean the VICTIM, Gideon? You seem to keep forgetting that part," Dave bit out, glancing back quickly as he heard a slight stir behind him, watching as JJ shifted against the leather bench.

"I haven't forgotten anything, Rossi," Gideon replied quietly, shaking his head as his eyes tracked Rossi's movements. "You weren't the only one that was shaken by that case."

"Then how in the hell can you ask any of this of her," Dave growled, turning back to face his colleague and nemesis.

"Because she WANTS to do this, Dave," Gideon retorted forcefully, moderating his voice at the last moment. "You think I didn't talk to her about it? I did. She wants these memories back….she wants them because they just might be the key to finding out who murdered her sister and locking up a psychotic animal. She's thinking clearly." He added then, pointedly, "Unlike somebody else on this plane."

"Oh, if it's clarity you're wanting, I'll be clear then, Jase," Dave growled softly, taking a step forward. "I'll clearly tell you that if you break her the way you broke her a quarter of a century ago, you'll wish I'd killed you back then."

"Good thing for me, I'm not any more worried about what YOU think now than I was then," Gideon replied with a grim smile.

"Keep pushing, asshole," Dave warned, clenching his fists, his blood pressure rising astronomically. "And you and I are gonna make the little altercation we had in the Sunshine Bar in '88 look tame by comparison to what happens on this jet," Dave warned, his voice low as his eyes glittered.

Cracking a genuine smile at the memory, Gideon shook his head. "Dave, I know you've made it big…but I'm pretty sure you and I together couldn't swing the cost of this jet. Hell, buying that bar after the damage we did to it was bad enough. Dammit, it took us until '95 to sell the damn thing."

"Then I suggest you watch what implications you make about the woman sleeping behind me…and be very careful how you handle her," Dave replied evenly, brushing past the other man as he headed toward the front of the plane and the gathered group assembled there.

Staring down at JJ, Gideon shook his head as he murmured, "Well, I'll be damned." Moving forward, Gid dropped a gentle hand to JJ's head, smoothing her hair. "Never thought I'd see that look in his eyes again, JJ," he whispered to the sleeping woman. "God help you….you made that old bastard care about somebody again."

Settling into the chair that Rossi had just vacated, Gideon just stared at the sleeping woman, his mind slipping into the past to the first time he had met her. Those piercing blue eyes had affected all of their team then, brimming with intelligence beyond her years. Shaking his head, he also remembered seeing those eyes filled with horror and sufferings that no child should have to endure. For years, he had dealt with the memories of those dark and destructive days, the thoughts of little Jenny McClellan fading but never leaving completely. Then when Jennifer Jareau had first applied to the Bureau, he had reviewed her file, the pieces falling into place quickly as he had read her psychological profile, the details listed in sterile black and white on the official FBI forms.

He had recommended her immediately, not because of their past connection, but based on merit. Her outstanding test scores, impressive profile, and numerous recommendations had sealed her place in the Unit. And throughout the years that he had worked with JJ, he had quickly found her to be one of the best agents he had ever led. She balanced her compassion for the victims with professionalism, never once alluding to her own tragedy.

But now, that tragedy had crept back into her life, into all their lives. Watching as she tossed again, Gideon stood slowly, his legs reminding him that he wasn't as young as he once was. Smiling sadly, he tucked a stray hair behind JJ's ear, murmuring, "Now let's just keep you safe enough to enjoy whatever future you and Rossi can create together, sweetheart."


	15. Chapter 14

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Settling back against the leather seat, Aaron Hotchner looked up from the large manila folder laid out on the table in front of him as he said, calmly, "If everyone's ready, then let's get started."

His rumpled head popping up quickly, Reid asked, his neck craning toward the back of the plane, "Isn't JJ going to join us?"

"No, Kid, she's not," Rossi answered emphatically, the steel in his tone belying his casual posture. "She's going to sleep as long as she can," he added, casting his eyes darkly across the aisle way, "without anyone interrupting her."

Catching the obviously irritated tone and the dark glances being passed between the two men that were once his mentors, Hotch bit back a sigh as he said, firmly, "No one's going to bother her, Dave. It is not necessary to subject her to a recap of the case, considering she will not be acting as an agent in this particular case ." Flicking a sheet of paper out of the file, he added, "This is the original profile from the case. We need to review this theory and identify any holes, working with the new facts that we have in our possession."

Nodding rapidly, Reid started the conversation, his hands pressed against the table as he said, almost thoughtfully, "It appears that the original team were looking for a medical professional, and yet the man that was assumed to be the unsub turned out to be a carpenter. "

"Yeah, that should have been our first clue," Rossi muttered, his fist clenching at his side as he once again mentally condemned himself for ignoring that very fact.

"It was for Max," Gideon admitted softly, nodding as he added, "We also profiled that the unsub would be highly educated and a loner, with limited familial interaction or support. We thought we had missed that one, too."

"So who was the man that was killed, the man that you all thought was the unsub? This Mitchell Hines?" Emily asked solemly, looking up from notes, glancing from one man to the other.

Snorting, Dave shook his head, rubbing a hand across his jaw. "Mitchell Hines was about as far from the profile we developed as you could get. We profiled a man 20 to 30 years old. Hines was 35. We profiled a loner. Hines was a well known family man, active in his church. He had a wife of seventeen years and two kids around the same age as JJ was then. We profiled an educated man with a background in the medical field gained through possible military experience, very intelligent. Mitchell Hines was a high school graduate of average intelligence self-employed as a carpenter. And he never served a day in any of the Armed Forces."

"Not to be a buzz kill, but why the hell did you think this guy was your unsub?" Morgan asked, rubbing his bald head in frustration as he looked between Rossi and Gideon.

"First, he was running," Gideon sighed, the memories from that fateful day coming back to his mind. "We called out for him to halt. And believe me when I tell you, he didn't. After Locke took the kill shot to his head and we got to his body, we noticed his shirt and hands…covered in blood." Pausing for a moment, he glanced around the gathered group as he added softly, "Tests would later confirm that it WAS JJ's blood."

"And that alone convinced you that you had the right man at the time?" Reid asked quizzically, his shoulders hunched over the fake wooden table. "That was enough to convince you and Rossi to walk away?"

Shaking his head, Gideon said quietly, "Not quite. A suicide note of sorts was found inside the cabin wherein Mitchell Hines confessed to the murders of the seven children that had been taken to that date. We theorized at the time that he'd written it in anticipation of killing JJ since she would have been the seventh victim. At the time, we surmised that after taking her life, it would have been his final act and he was planning to commit suicide."

"And now what do you think?" Hotch asked, looking from Dave to Jason, waiting for the senior profilers to complete the holes in their current case.

"He was a plant…as much a victim of the unsub as any of the victims that bastard murdered," Rossi replied, his hands tightening around the file in his hands as he stared down at a picture of the broken little girl he'd carried out of that cabin, her blonde hair and blue eyes staring back at him. "I just don't know how. Yet."

Shaking her head as she processed the information, Emily asked, steadily, "What about the organs he took from each child's body? I don't see any notations about what happened to them," Emily muttered, scanning the pages of the file she held.

"There aren't any notes because we never figured it out. One theory we had was that he was selling them on the black market. We also considered cannibalism. The only thing we know for sure is that they were not in that cabin. We tore it apart," Gideon stated, his tone low, as he leaned back against the padded seat, crossing his arms behind his head.

"I don't buy the black market," Garcia said with a shake of her blonde head, her earrings bouncing against her neck. "There's no such thing as a brain transplant," she shuddered, closing her eyes as she quickly turned the page on a picture of Lacy's corpse.

"He's keeping them," Rossi growled darkly. "As trophies. I'd stake my career on it." Feeling the plane drop suddenly, his stomach catching, Rossi craned his neck around, his eyes immediately zoning in on the prone woman at the back of the plane. Assuring himself that she was still asleep, he sighed as he turned back to the group, meeting Hotch's eyes, "And he's not getting his final trophy, not if I have anything to do with it."


	16. Chapter 15

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Wait," Reid said, perplexed, holding up a hand in the air, his eyes darting from Jason to Rossi. "You had this many unanswered questions regarding a case and you both just walked away? That doesn't sound like either of you," he said with a shake of his head, his eyes focusing on Jason, confusion evident in his gaze.

As Jason opened his mouth, Rossi 's loud voice cut him off. "Get this right, kid. We did NOT walk away," he replied sharply, jerking upward in his seat as he gripped the armrests. "We tried to ask questions…to get answers, but we had what appeared to be a really dead unsub, a surviving victim that was in a catatonic state after Jason got through with her that last time and a Bureau that wanted a to mark a win for their newly formed BAU team."

"AND lest we forget, we were asked to leave," Gideon added slowly, looking at Reid. "Twenty-five years ago, Reid, it was a whole different Bureau. Our abilities to intercede were severely limited back then. When the locals told you to get out, you went."

"But, if you'd only…" Reid began, his eyes rounding as he glanced from man to man.

"If we'd only what, Reid?" Dave growled, his tone strained as he barely held himself in his seat. "Worked a little harder? Dug a little more? What?"

"Uhmm, no," Reid faltered, "I was going to say that if you'd only been given a little more time, sir."

"Dave," Hotch murmured calmly without looking up from the file in his lap, "Take a breath."

Looking around at the shocked faces staring at him, Dave turned to glare out the window, the heavy blackness hanging outside the window a perfect match to the dark topic being discussed inside the plane. "Sorry," he finally mumbled, pressing a palm against his leg. "I guess you can all figure out that this case is a sore spot with Gideon and me. We knew something wasn't right and…"

"-we were told to pull out," Gideon supplied softly, staring down at his hands, shoulders slumped against the molded seat.

Glancing up, Hotch stated quietly, confidently, "Well, we're back now. And this time we're going to nail the bastard. We have more information and manpower, and nothing's going to stop us. So put the past behind you, both of you. And get your game faces on because we're in for a long haul, I'm afraid."

Glancing behind her toward a sleeping JJ, her eyes blinking as she watched her best friend sleep fitfully, Garcia whispered, "Not too long, I hope. I don't know how much Jayje can take. Did you guys see her face in the war room?"

"She was blindsided," Rossi muttered with a glare at Gideon, his lips pressing together.

"Hey, don't blame me for that one," Gideon rumbled, meeting the glare head on. "Not my plan. Talk to Strauss…I thought we were gonna fill you in and then talk to JJ together."

"Stupid bitch," Dave hissed violently, flicking his eyes back to the window as he forced himself to maintain a control that he definitely didn't feel.

"Focus, Dave. You can vent your spleen about Strauss later," Hotch ordered firmly. "Hell, I'll even spring for the bottle of scotch for you. But right now, I want a game plan before this plane lands." Watching the two older profilers obviously struggling with the current situation, he sighed.

"Listen, guys," Hotch said, using his thumb and forefinger to rub at his tired eyes, pressing hard, "While I think you were all probably spot on with your original profile…"

"This bastard has had twenty-five years to perfect and hone his craft," Dave supplied heavily, his eyes focusing again on the black night outside the plane's small window, subconsciously searching for something, anything, that would give them a glimpse into the future. "He's evolved."

"Yes," Hotch agreed calmly. "He has. So while I don't think that the old profile is incorrect, per se, we'll have more to add to it. And every piece that we add will be another nail in his coffin."

Glancing through the file she held, her fingers sliding against the typed pages, Emily looked at Hotch. "By my math, there are thirty dead victims out there and we've only accounted for nine of the bodies."

Nodding, Hotch looked toward Garcia, his mouth opening, only to find her tapping diligently at her keyboard. Cocking an eyebrow, he asked, "Garcia?"

"Already on it, Boss Man," Garcia nodded without looking up, her fingers moving at rapid speed. "But I'm gonna need some parameters over here," she frowned, staring down at the small screen. "I'm good, but I haven't perfected my miracle working powers yet."

"Okay," Morgan sighed, propping his elbows on the wooden table as he glanced around the gathered team. "What do we know?"

"He brands his victim's bodies with a Trident and assigns them a number, which he also burns them with," Emily murmured almost clinically. Glancing up, she asked Gideon, "Pre or Post-mortem?"

"Pre," Gideon said softly, a deep sigh pushing past his lips. "He wants them to feel everything. He enjoys seeing his victim's pain."

"As evidenced by the trace amounts of drugs you'll find in the victims' systems," Rossi nodded, closing his eyes almost convulsively as he remembered the sheer amount of pain he'd seen reflected in JJ's bright, glazed eyes all those years ago.

"I need more than that, Super Agent," Penelope grumbled, tapping at her keyboard again as she navigated the various databases that would identify additional victims. "Can you give me the names of specific drugs? Anything out of the ordinary that can narrow the field?"

"It should be in the file," Gideon said, nodding toward the file spread on the small table between them. "But he administered a paralytic to each victim before he removed their organs. He wanted them incapacitated, but he also needed for them to feel every slice. It's a power play."

Rossi forced himself to remain calm, detached, as he added, "We also found trace amounts of sedatives. Our theory back then was he kept the children drugged into submission. The bastard had to find a way to manage them…and drugged children don't scream."

"Evidence of that was found in the bodies of the three most recent victims, as well," Reid added with a nod, his bespeckled eyes quickly scanning the recent reports.

"If the last three women were anything to go by, each additional body will be missing its heart, too," Morgan added, scratching his head. "My question is, though, 'Why is it always the heart now?'."

"It's the one thing he couldn't get to complete his fucked up plan all those years ago," Dave growled, his neck stiff as his nostrils flared. "When we got to JJ, he already had cracked her chest. She was seconds away from him completing whatever mission he was on."

"So he fixated," Gideon added, gesturing toward the file that Reid was reviewing. "Now, it's the one organ he needs. But, it's never the right one because…"

"It isn't HER heart," Garcia shuddered heavily, her fingers stalling in their search.

"That's a theory," Hotch agreed, glancing toward the technical genius, "but, don't confine your search to missing hearts. Until we find the other victims, we don't know anything for sure."

"So, how are we gonna play this, Hotch? What's your plan?" Morgan asked, his dark eyes assessing their leader curiously.

Sighing, Hotch looked at Emily first, trusting the brunette to handle the extra duties. "Emily, I want you to coordinate with the locals in the morning. Put out what information we know with certainty and let them know that we'll do our best to provide them with a preliminary profile by their afternoon shift change." Seeing her brief nod, he continued, "After that, I want us to meet with JJ's father. He knows the area and most of the residents of the area since he was the town's Chief of Police for over twenty years. I've already spoken to him, and he's agreed to go with us to visit some of the victim's families in the afternoon. Hopefully, his presence will loosen their tongues. From what he's told me about the area, these people are pretty tightlipped in the community." Pausing, he glanced around the group as he added, plainly, "And nobody's thrilled that we're coming."

"It's a small town mentality. They aren't comfortable with what they aren't familiar with," Reid theorized, his head leaning back.

"Perhaps, but we're going to need everyone's cooperation on this, so, step lightly. Morgan and Reid," he said, pausing to look from one man's face to the other, "I want you to visit the dump site. See if you can find anything of use. It's been picked over, but you never know what will turn up on a second look."

"Got it," Morgan nodded, jotting down a quick note on the pad in front of him.

Looking at Dave, Hotch asked quietly, "I'm assuming you want to stay with JJ?"

"She's not going anywhere without me," Dave replied, his voice hard as his direct gaze met Hotch's, his eyes conveying his convictions. "Especially when he," Dave jerked his head toward Gideon, "is trying to pull this shit from her psyche."

"Speaking of that," Hotch murmured, shifting his eyes toward Gideon, "when are you going to want to start regressing her?"

"I promised Locke when he called me that I wouldn't make a move until he'd seen her," Gideon replied, flicking his hand in the air. "He insisted that if JJ was going to do this, that he had to be there."

"Is that really a good idea?" Emily frowned, her brows furrowing as she cocked her head. "Isn't it a proven fact that a family member, especially a parent, can hamper those kinds of sessions?"

"It is," Jason nodded in agreement, his eyes steadily meeting hers. "But Locke is different."

"Wouldn't you wanna be there if it was your kid on the line, Prentiss?" Dave asked bluntly, his dark eyes boring into hers.

"I would…but that doesn't mean that it would be in the best interest of the case," Emily replied carefully, guarding her words closely.

"What about what's best for JJ?" Dave growled, clenching his fist as he once again questioned the entire sanity of the situation.

"Dave," Hotch said calmly, placing a palm against the wooden table, "We ALL want the same thing here. And Emily has a valid question," Hotch said, defending the woman beside him.

"I made Locke a promise," Gideon said implacably, his craggy face void of emotion. "I won't break my word. Unless JJ objects, her father is going to be a part of this."

"Then I guess you should know, I object," JJ said softly from her position at the back of the plane, her faint voice barely audible above the thrust of the small plane's engines. Slowly sitting up in her seat, her blue eyes found her colleagues' gathered faces at the front of the plane. Shaking her head slowly, long blonde hair dropping to one side, she declared, "I can't relive this with daddy listening."


	17. Chapter 16

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixteen**

Turning sharply as the sound of her soft voice washed over him, Dave found JJ struggling to sit up in her seat, her hair mussed as she swept a flyaway strand out of her face. Pushing out of his seat quickly, he made his way back to her, frowning. "How long have you been awake for?" he asked deeply, his eyes training on hers. Damn it, had she been subjected to their morbid rehashing of the events from her past?

"Long enough to hear your game plan," she replied hoarsely, staring at Gideon. "And it all sounds good…right up until the part about involving my daddy," she said pointedly, her lips tightening as she watched Jason shift in his seat.

"JJ, your father wants to be a part of this. In addition to having one of his daughters harmed, he lost another to the hands of this bastard," Jason reasoned, his voice even as his eyes met hers.

"He's also seventy years old and RETIRED," JJ insisted, her voice pleading as she pushed hard against the seat, her fingers digging into the soft leather. "Don't do this to him," she continued, her voice pleading for someone…anyone to see her plight, her eyes moving rapidly from one person to another. "I can't lose him, too. His heart…" she stammered, her breath catching in her throat as images of her father's elderly face rose in her mind. "I can't let this unsub take another member of my family…not even indirectly," she explained, her voice rising rapidly as panic settled into her chest.

"Hey," Dave said evenly, dropping to the seat beside her as his fingers reached for her trembling hand, capturing her fingers easily and pulling her closer. "Nobody's letting anything happen to anyone. Your father included."

"You-you don't know that," JJ stammered, her words tangling on her tongue, her thoughts jumbling in her mind as she tried to make sense of the entire convoluted situation. "Daddy's gonna want blood. You don't know him like I do."

"That's true," Dave said evenly, squeezing her fingers to remind her that he was still there, still protecting her. "But your father is also a cop down to his core. He knows the score and he knows how the job is done, regardless of his age. Besides that, nobody here is going to allow him to go off half-cocked. We didn't let him do it twenty-five years ago and we won't let it happen now," Dave promised, his heavy voice reassuring as he completely wrapped her cold hand in his.

Frantic eyes finding his, JJ begged, her gaze filled with a deep sorrow, "Don't let him be there when you make me remember, Dave! Please!! Whatever's locked inside my mind isn't something any father should ever have to hear. I don't even want to remember it!"

"Shhhh," Dave said gently, her voice tearing at his heart. "Nobody's remembering anything tonight," he soothed.

"JJ," Gideon said firmly, his voice pulling her eyes to him as he bent slowly, his knees popping as he settled across from her. "We don't know what you have locked inside your subconscious."

"Exactly," JJ said sharply, her hand tightening convulsively against Rossi's. "But obviously whatever it is will be pretty bad. Especially if I've buried it for over twenty years. If I couldn't cope with it, why the hell do you think my father would fare any better? We were his kids, for God's sake! Would you wanna know what a psycho had done to your dead child?"

"Yes, I would," Gideon answered softly, his words calm and measured.

"Enough," Dave warned, his angry eyes flashing to Jason's as he felt JJ stiffen beside him, her total body posture forewarning him of a possible impending breakdown. And he would do anything necessary to avoid that possibility, to keep this woman from facing danger in any form, including the danger in her memories.

"But-," Jason opened his mouth to speak.

"You wanna go for a walk in the clouds, Jason? Minus the parachute?" Dave snapped, his hand tightening protectively around JJ as she sunk more beside him, her shoulders stiffening. "It's up to Jennifer, Gideon. She gets a say in what happens. Especially since it's her mind you wanna go traipsing around in," he said bluntly, feeling her relax slightly against him as he warned Jason off.

"And this doesn't need to be decided tonight," Hotch added, glaring at Gideon as he shook his head. "Aside from that, we also need to make arrangements to visit the medical examiner. JJ, do you think you're up to that?" Hotch asked, his tone gentle as he measured the look on his agent's face.

"I'm up to whatever needs to be done," JJ replied, straightening in her seat, emotionally composing herself as she tried to clear her mind and focus on the absolute necessities. Letting out a deep breath, she felt Rossi's thumb sweep against her hand, his warm touch a solid reassurance in her changing world. Flicking her eyes toward the far wall, she felt herself drawn to the small window, to the great sky floating just outside their small plane.

"Good," Hotch nodded, satisfied that she wasn't going to collapse on them. "Then Rossi, you and JJ, AND Jason will visit the ME in the morning. Take JJ's dad with you…he'll want to spend some time with his daughter, I'm sure." Glancing at his watch, Hotch murmured, "By my calculation, we've got about fifteen minutes until we land. I say that we gather our things and get a good night's sleep. Start fresh in the morning. JJ, you said that you're staying with the team on this one?" Hotch asked, glancing back at JJ's pale face staring out the window as Dave watched her, the older man's concern telegraphed in his dark gaze.

Nodding without taking her eyes off the window, JJ replied calmly, "Daddy went into one of those retirement communities last year after his heart attack. They've only got one bedroom and the staff frowns on overnight visitors."

"I've talked to him," Gideon supplied, his gaze also carefully watching the young blonde. "He's meeting us bright and early at the diner in the morning."

"The diner?" Emily asked, curious.

"The only restaurant in Sunshine," JJ muttered, dragging her eyes away from the window as she turned to look at her friend. "Daddy loves the fried eggs."

"Fried eggs?" Garcia said, sticking her tongue out, repulsed as she let loose with a full body shiver.

"Learn to love the food," Gideon advised, cocking one eyebrow. "Like JJ said, it's the only restaurant in town."

"One of the many joys of small town life," JJ said, smiling faintly as the plane began to descend, leaning her shoulder slightly against Rossi's. "Welcome to Sunshine."


	18. Chapter 17

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Shifting the overnight bag on his shoulder as he reached for the old-fashioned metal key in his pocket, Rossi slid the lock open with ease, the heavy wooden door creaking open against his palm. Glancing over his shoulder, he frowned as he watched the petite blonde stare into space, her focus clearly somewhere other than in this excuse for a hotel.

Pressing a hand against the metal door jamb, he called softly, not wanting to startle her any more than necessary, "You want me to put your bag on the bed, Jen?"

He watched as she turned her head slowly, almost as if she was using her last ounce of energy, her eyes finally settling on his. This might be her body, he thought with a dark sigh, but the Jennifer standing before him was a mere shell, the vibrant, full of life woman that had once existed in that body now gone. But, he told himself with conviction as he hitched the bag again, she would come back. He would help her come back.

His voice seemed so distant, so far away, and yet she knew that he was standing within arm's reach. From the moment the plane had touched down on the small airstrip outside of town, he had not left her side, ushering her from plane to SUV to the front lobby, keeping her tucked next to him every step of the way. A part of her realized that this protective man had become her safety net, her security in a treacherous world. But another part of her wondered if his protection would be enough.

Waiting for her to respond, Rossi murmured, again, forcing a sterner note into his voice this time, "Jen? Honey, are you hearing me?"

Her blonde head nodded once as she whispered, shuffling her feet against the worn shag carpet in the dimly lit hallway, "It just seems so strange, Dave. Being here. Being in Sunshine."

"I can imagine," he said gently, nodding as he stepped to the side, letting her pass him into the small dark room. Following quickly, he flipped on the nearest switch, bathing the room in pale yellow, just enough to see the large bed in the center of the room and the door to the side.

Dropping her bag on the bed, he crossed the room, reaching for the small doorknob, pulling open the heavy wood and pushing the door on the other side, revealing a mirror copy of her room waiting for him.

Turning sharply as she heard the sound of the latch click, JJ cocked her head as she crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tightly as she asked, slowly, "What's that, Dave?"

"My room," he answered succinctly, throwing his go bag inside the doorway as he turned back to face her, heading toward the heating unit underneath the window. "I had Emily get us the only connecting rooms in this Mom & Pop establishment."

"Dave, I'll be fine. I mean, I'm a little rattled by all this," she said with a long sigh, gesturing helplessly, "but, you're acting like I'm in some kind of imminent danger." Noticing the slight darkening in his eyes…the tightening of his lips as he fiddled with the dials on a metal box, JJ narrowed her gaze on the older man. "Why do I suddenly get the feeling that there's some vital piece of information that I don't know, Dave?"

"JJ, we decided…" Dave said as he straightened to face her, faltering suddenly as he searched for the appropriate words to convey the danger she was in without terrifying her.

"Who is we and what did you decide?" JJ asked, tightening her grip on herself, her nails digging into the soft flesh of her arms. But the pain only registered on the peripheries of her senses, her entire focus on the man that she thought she trusted.

"Honey, there's not an easy way to tell you any of this," Dave said with a shake of his graying head, keeping his hands loose at his sides as he watched her attempting to shield herself.

"So just rip the band-aid off," JJ sighed heavily, feeling a knot of dread rest heavy in her stomach, the weight threatening to sink her, to drag her into the depths of the horror that she thought she had escaped.

"The last victim that they found…JJ, there was a note on the body," Dave said carefully, his voice soft in the dim room. The heating unit suddenly kicked into high gear, a rattling blast of air invading the space, followed by a sharp clanging.

But the noise didn't seem to penetrate the fog surrounding them both. "A note?" JJ whispered, watching Dave's face for a sign of how serious this new development was. The noisome interruption faded as quickly as it had come, leaving the room silent again. "What did it say?"

When her faintly asked question met with deafening silence, his eyes merely staring back at her, JJ repeated, louder this time, "Dave, what did it say?" Surely, she lied to herself, surely whatever he would say couldn't be as bad as what her mind was already imagining. Or could it?

"It indicated that you were his ultimate target," Dave answered quietly, taking a step forward as he delivered the news.

Images collided in JJ's memory as her mind struggled to process those hesitantly spoken words. It was her…she was his goal, his final trophy, her mind screamed. "It was about me all along. He took the hearts because he never got mine. All those people…all these years," she began to babble as tremors coursed through her body, her spine literally quaking as she attempted to maintain her balance against the rapidly invading dread.

"JJ…Jennifer, no," Dave said rapidly, catching her as her body pitched forward, her eyes frantic as they started to close.

Catching herself against the cheap dresser as she felt his solid hand wrap around her arm, JJ turned suddenly, lashing out as she forced herself to stand alone. "How dare you keep this from me! How dare you?" she screamed, her arm lifting to slap him soundly against the face, her fingers fisting as she made contact with his jawbone. Taking a stumbling step back from him as she shook her head, JJ whispered, harshly, "What right do you all have to keep ANYTHING from me?"


	19. Chapter 18

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighteen**

Lifting a hand to rub his jaw, the physical pain far less important than the emotions they were both feeling, Dave slowly took another step toward her, pacing himself. "Jen, we're trying to keep you safe. Physically AND emotionally. At the time, you'd taken enough hits…telling you then would've served no purpose other than push you close to the edge of the ledge you're currently hovering on."

"That isn't your call," she retorted, angrily swiping at the hot tears suddenly falling against her wan cheeks, already drenching the collar of her shirt. "What else haven't you told me? What else, Rossi?"

"There's nothing that I know about, Jen," Dave said softly, keeping his voice low and calm as she backed herself into a corner, her wet eyes wild as she looked around the room.

"H-how did he find me?" JJ asked in a shaking voice, slapping her hand against the solid wall, pressing her body into the V formed where the windows met a concrete wall. "H-how did he know this is where he'd find me?"

"We don't know that yet, honey," Dave replied evenly as he shook his head. Wincing as he watched her nails draw blood from the grip she had on her own arms, he fought the urge to drag her out of this sad excuse for a motel, to take her somewhere far away where no one could ever hurt her again. "JJ, you've got to relax. Let your arms go, sweetheart," he implored her, reaching to draw them down to her sides.

"Don't touch me," she shrieked, pressing herself closer to the wall, the cold concrete hard behind her, it's chill seeping into her skin.

Holding up his hands, Dave nodded calmly as he took a step backward, ignoring his throbbing jaw. "Okay, Jen, backing up here. Just calm down," Dave urged, hearing a hard knock at the door before hearing it click open. His instincts told him to keep his focus on Jennifer, knowing that their fellow team members' rooms bordered them on both sides, reducing the risk of any present danger.

"What's going on in here?" Gideon asked calmly, stepping into the room and closing the door with a sharp click. His eyes easily took in the situation as he said, eyebrow raised, "I heard shouting."

"Like you have to ask," JJ hissed, her voice breaking as she pressed her hands against her cheeks. "You knew, too! You let me come here…you WANTED me to come here and you KNEW!"

"Knew what, JJ?" Gideon asked, keeping his tone warm and calm as he looked from JJ to Dave, catching Dave's eye.

"I told her about the note with the last body, Jason," Dave murmured, turning his attention back to JJ as she dropped her head back against the harsh, unforgiving wall.

"I thought we'd agreed to wait to share that information," Gideon replied in a low voice.

"She asked me a direct question and I'll be damned if I lie to her," Dave growled as he turned, glaring at the other man, not willing to allow his former teammate to condemn him for an action that was obviously necessary. "Not to mention the fact that if I hadn't told her, then her father would have."

Ignoring their conversation, JJ shifted quickly as she reached blindly for her bag on the bed, throwing it carelessly over her shoulder, scraping it against the wall behind her in her haste.

Looking toward her quickly, Dave frowned, taking a quick step in her direction. "JJ? What are you doing?"

"Leaving," she informed them both succinctly, refusing to meet their eyes. "I'm getting my father and we're both going back to D.C.!"

"JJ, that isn't a good idea," Jason said calmly, stepping in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Ask me how much I CARE what you think, Gideon!" JJ yelled, clenching her fist around the strap of her bag.

"Jen, honey, I'm sorry, but we can't let you do that," Dave said quickly, reaching out to surround her arm in a firm grip, his fingers holding tightly as she struggled.

But glancing down, it wasn't Dave's warm, gentle hand she saw, another hand replacing his in the nightmare that suddenly invaded her overloaded mind. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, her terrified voice echoing off the walls of the small room.

**~*~**

_She was so cold. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she quickly looked around the dark hole they were trapped in. "Lacy?" she whispered, her voice sounding hoarse, like she'd sounded when she had a cold last month. "Lacy?!"_

"_Sissy?" a tiny voice called back._

_Crawling toward the sound of her baby sister's voice, JJ's hand connected with Lacy's leg. Pulling herself to sit beside her sister, her eyes filled with tears._

"_I'm c-cold, Sissy," Lacy said, her teeth chattering. _

_Wrapping her arms around her, JJ tried to be brave. "It's okay, Lace. Daddy'll come find us soon," JJ assured her as she heard a moan from somewhere in the darkness._

"_Hello?" another tiny voice called._

"_Who's there?" JJ asked sharply, her voice filled with fear._

"_My name's Kasey," the voice answered back._

_Hearing a door swing open from above, their hole was suddenly flooded with glaring light and JJ squinted as she looked up. Watching as a gloved hand descended through the opening, JJ heard a rough man's voice harshly order, "Start giving me your arms! Now!"_

_Watching as a dark headed little girl crawled towards the arm, JJ shook her head. "What are you doin'?" she whispered frantically._

"_If we don't, he hits," Kasey murmured as another girl crawled behind her. "It's okay, it don't hurt much," she said softly as a needle jabbed in her arm. _

_Watching as the arm roughly pushed Kasey back, JJ watched as one by one, the five other girls took their turn. After the fifth girl had gone, JJ heard that angry voice demand, "Next!" Biting her lip, she pushed herself further against the wall, trying to evade the swinging arm. But it was impossible. Crying out as the gloved hand tangled in her long blonde hair, she screamed as the long needle pierced her flailing arm, "Stop! Please don't hurt me! Please! I'll be good!"_

**~*~**

"Stop! Please don't hurt me! Please! I'll be good!" JJ shrieked, horror coloring her child-like voice as she collapsed limply to the floor at David's feet, her face pressed into the thick carpet.

"Sweetheart!" Dave whispered brokenly as he dropped beside her, watching in silent dismay as tears rolled down her cheeks, his only desire to stop whatever pain, real or imagined, she was currently experiencing. "JJ!"

"Dave, wait!" Gideon ordered sharply , kneeling in front of her. "JJ, who's hurting you?" he asked calmly, keeping his eyes glued to her face.

Glaring angrily at his former partner, Rossi snapped sharply, "Get the fuck away from her! Can't you see she's in pain? You promised her you wouldn't do this tonight!"

Ignoring his demands, Gideon held his position, his voice calm in the middle of the raging storm. "I didn't start it, Dave. Her own mind is trying to tell her something. We can't ignore what's happening and risk losing that information."

But neither of their opinions mattered at that moment, JJ's memories overtaking her as she huddled in an almost fetal position, her very posture the image of a shattered young child. "You hurt my arm," JJ cried raggedly, staring unseeing into Dave's eyes, her eyelids glued wide. "You always hurt our arms with the shots! Please let me go!" JJ begged, shaking her arms as she tried to escape, tried to move but found herself cemented to the ground, her mind unable to control her body. "I can't find Sissy! Please don't hurt Sissy," she pleaded brokenly, her voice tiny.

Releasing his grip on JJ's forearm quickly, unwilling to cause her any more pain, real or remembered, Dave framed her face with shaking hands as he ordered, gently, "JJ, come on now, honey. Nobody's going to hurt you. I promise. Just look at me! Look at me, JJ!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears as JJ relived those hellish moments of her captivity and finally, with a last piercing scream, she slumped forward, her eyes snapping shut as she closed her mind to both the past and the present.

Catching her slight weight against him with shaking arms, Dave looked at Jason with alarmed eyes. "What the fuck just happened?" he whispered harshly, cradling her body protectively against his, caught in the desire to swing her into his arms and shield her but apprehensive that he would cause her that terrifying pain once again.

Shaking his head grimly as he watched the blonde head loll limply, Gideon replied gravely, his eyes trained on JJ's exhausted face, "We just got a glimpse into hell."


	20. Chapter 19

******_Author's Note: Hey, guys! Don't forget to get your nominations in for the CMFanfic Awards! There's a link on my profile page for those of you that need it! It's a great way to let your favorite stories by recognized! Ballots are due by tomorrow!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Nineteen**

"She thought I was him," Dave said an hour later as he sat staring at JJ, his eyes refusing to leave her pale sleeping face. Sighing, he shifted again in the aged recliner, a spring once again poking him in the small of his back. Angrily stuffing the upholstery back in place, he wondered idly if the blasted piece of furniture was exacting some form of inanimate revenge because he had dared to move it from the corner to rest right next to her bed.

"She wasn't really even seeing you, Dave," Jason replied, his voice low and steady from the opposite corner of the room where he sat, book in his hand, pages turning at regular intervals. "She was trapped in a nightmare."

"It was my hand on her body that sent her flying backwards into hell," Rossi replied heavily, his tone filled with self-loathing as he glared down at his hands, tightly clenching the arms of the recalcitrant recliner.

"It was also your hands that carried her out of hell," Gideon replied philosophically, closing his book as he turned dark eyes toward his old frenemy, measuring him with patient consideration.

"Not soon enough," Dave said with a shake of his head, his eyes watching JJ's now relaxed face as she slept. His tone held a mixture of ire and anger, pain and regret, held together by a firm resoluteness that emanated from his very pores.

"We got to her as soon as we could," Gideon reminded him quietly, his words riding just above the hiss of the heater. "You got her out alive, man."

"Barely," Rossi snorted, his lips thinning as he clenched his jaw. "And I wouldn't exactly call what she's doing now living, Gid," Dave argued softly, his fingers tapping hard but silently against the threadbare upholstery.

"And this is a transient condition," Gideon replied evenly, his eyes scanning over his former teammate. Focusing on Dave's lined, tired face, he said, calming but firmly, "You need to sleep, Old Man. Neither one of us are as young as we used to be."

"Can't. Every time I close my eyes, I either see her as she was twenty-five years ago or as she was an hour ago. Either way, it's enough to make ME want to howl," Dave muttered, suddenly holding his breath as he watched the woman in question shift against the pillow. But as her hand crept up to clutch the edge of the comforter, her actions stilled, reminding him that she was still securely sleeping.

"Dave, she's safe. Right here, right now, in this moment, she's safe. You need to rest while that's a certainty," Gideon advised with a short wave of his hand toward the bed, getting to his feet slowly.

Frowning, Dave tore his eyes away from the bed, tracking the other profiler's movements as he slipped on his jacket, each button sliding into place easily. "Where are you going?"

"To bed," Gid replied succinctly, easing a turned cuff into place.

"Maybe you ought to be the one that stays in here with her," Dave worried suddenly, flicking his eyes back to the bed. "She was…."

"She was trapped in a post traumatic flashback that we've both seen hundreds of times before. It could happen again in the next minute or we might never see it again. Either way, if that woman," Gideon replied calmly, nodding to JJ, "wakes up and you're not here, she's gonna be terrified. I've been gone for two years. And in the twelve hours I've been back, it's blatantly obvious that she gravitates toward you. That she trusts YOU. I can help her, Dave. But it's you she'll believe when the chips are down." Grabbing his abandoned book from the table, he grinned, the Irish leprechaun making an appearance. "Besides, there's no way you'd ever actually leave her alone."

"Wasn't gonna leave," Rossi shrugged, leaning back into the chair, relaxing for a brief moment as he processed his friend's assessment. "I was just gonna offer you the bed in the other room and stay right here in this chair."

"You're gonna do that anyway," Gid replied with a snort, shaking his head as he grinned wider. "You've got it bad, Old Son."

"You're full of hot air," Dave grumbled, neither confirming or denying Gideon's suspicions, especially now when the woman he was concerned about had been through such trauma.

"Whatever you say, Dave," Gid retorted easily, reaching for the doorknob. "Sing out if you need me."

Watching as the door closed behind Jason, Dave's eyes were drawn back to the slumbering woman in the bed. She seemed to finally be resting comfortably, her head nestled against the pillow as one hand still clutched the bedspread, her security blanket firmly in place. Shaking his head, he settled more deeply into his chair, releasing a pent up breath that he hadn't even realized he had been holding. The clinical part of him knew that what had occurred earlier wasn't really a shock. Her overworked mind and fatigued body had merely reacted to a situation, throwing her backward in time and creating a physiological response that manifested in the present. Gideon was right; he'd seen it before. Hell, he'd seen it before with a member of his own team. Hadn't Reid had a similar experience in Nevada?

But, this was different, damn it. This was not Spencer Reid, and they definitely weren't in the LaLa Land of Las Vegas anymore. This was HER. His JJ. And as much as he understood that it hadn't really been him she saw in that flashback, it still hurt. Watching that shattered look in her vacant eyes had twisted something within him painfully, violently, lurching him into the same spiral that seemed to be intent on overtaking her tiny body. And the claws were still digging into his heart.

As JJ moaned softly in the bed, turning fitfully, he jerked forward quickly, sliding a gentle hand over her arm as she flailed it against the flowerprinted comforter. "Shhhh," he hushed her, watching as she slowly blinked open her eyes in the dimly lit room.

"D-dave?" JJ asked brokenly, her voice high in the dim room as she clutched at his arm tightly, her fingers biting into his warm skin, seeking the warmth, the strength that he was offering.

"It's okay, Jen," Dave soothed, watching as she struggled to sit up on the bed, her eyes slowly focusing, blinking rapidly as she let out a harsh breath. Feeling her arm shake slightly, he let his thumb rub slowly, gently, against her cool skin, unwilling to startle her, knowing that the first moments of consciousness often confuse everyone, no matter what the circumstances.

"Oh, God," JJ shuddered, looking around the room, her eyes bouncing from wall to wall. "It's all real," she whispered, unbelief shadowing her simple words, the hope for an alternate reality living in her tone. "It wasn't a bad dream."

"'Fraid not," Dave replied quietly, wishing for a moment that he could magically change their situation, change her horrors into rainbows and light. Seeing her press her fingers to her face, her lower lip shaking slightly, he eased forward more. "Do you want me to go get one of the girls, JJ? Maybe you'd…" Dave began, rising from his seat to gesture toward the door, his foot hitting against the edge of the bed in his movement.

Shaking her head frantically, JJ tightened her grip around his arm, nails biting deep into his roughened skin. "No! You can't leave!" she panicked, words pouring out in an avalanche, her tone urgent, begging. "You can't leave me alone," she pleaded, her round blue eyes staring up at him in silent supplication as she tugged at his arm, hard.

"Hey," Dave murmured gently, soothingly, trying to calm her. "It's okay, Jen. I'm here." Seeing the disbelief still in her sleep-ridden eyes, he frowned deeply, unable to forget the panic he had felt earlier. Patting her leg lightly, the thin bedspread a slight barrier between them, he ordered softly, confidently, "Scoot over."

Obeying quickly, her movements jerking, JJ slid a few inches, but refused to release her intractable grip on his arm. "I don't want to be alone," she admitted with a shallow breath, slowly easing her unforgiving fingers from his arm until they merely rested against his skin as he stretched out beside her. Even as she saw him propped against the headboard, she couldn't move her hand away from him, afraid that if she did, he'd disappear into thin air, a vapor in the wind. And it would just be her, in the darkness…again.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jen," Dave assured her firmly, his deep voice floating around them both as they settled against the firm mattress. Relieved as her tense posture slowly began to relax, he watched her shoulders dropping as she began to breathe more easily, her chest rising and falling in a normal pattern. Sweeping a soft hand against her hair, twining a strand around his pinky, he said with a gentle voice, "But you need to try to rest some more, okay?"

Nodding slowly, her body tiring as the adrenaline rush faded with each passing moment, JJ moved to lay beside him. Glancing up at his shadowed face, the dim light catching the bruise forming against his eye, she winced suddenly. "Oh, no," she whispered, raising a trembling hand to his face, her finger skirting the bruise. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, JJ," Dave assured her quickly, the quiet of the room seeming to magnify as he felt her fingers against his face.

"I hit you," she whispered, her voice uneven as she felt tears pricking behind her eyes again, pain pinching her soul again. "I'm sorry."

"You were overwhelmed and I deserved it," Dave whispered, reaching up to capture her hand loosely, slipping their fingers together, his larger hand swallowing hers.

"No," JJ shook her head against his shoulder, hating herself for hurting this man, this man who had apparently been protecting her for years. "You didn't. I overreacted…and I don't usually…normally I'm…" she stuttered, her thoughts as jumbled as her attempt at speech.

"JJ, you've had more thrown at you in a few short hours than most people do in a lifetime. You're allowed to be emotional," he said gently, moving her hand from his face to his chest, covering it lightly with his palm. Seeing the hesitation still hiding in her eyes, he squeezed her fingers. "Besides, do you know how many women have been waiting in line to take a shot at me?" he asked, winking and offering her a soft smile.

"I haven't been one of them," JJ replied as she bit her lower lip, rubbing her cheek against the soft flannel shirt covering his shoulder. Shrugging softly, she added, brokenly, "At least, not until tonight. I'm really sorry, Dave."

"Enough," he said softly, her apology sending a sharp pang through him, cutting at his very being. How could this woman, this vibrant stunning woman, feel that she had to apologize to him when she had been the victim? Needing to assure her, to assure himself, he murmured, "Everything's gonna be okay, Jen."

"Except it's not, is it?" JJ whispered, her fingers tightening in the material of his shirt underneath her hand, clutching. "I remembered the shots," JJ confided hollowly, her voice a mere breath of sound.

Lips tightening as the wall heater clicked on again, sending a steady stream of warm air into the room, Dave's hand tightened around her body as his other hand squeezed the one clenching his shirt. "I know, honey. Believe me, I was there," he returned as evenly as possible, attempting to control the anger that suddenly coursed through him as he thought of her pain. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Shaking her head against him, her hair sliding loosely, JJ huddled closer to his warm body, unable to control the involuntary shiver that seemed to start in her head and flow to her cold feet. "There really isn't a lot to say. I remembered being in a hole with the other girls. It was c-cold," she murmured, her words muffled as she pressed her face against his shoulder, reminding herself that she was in the present, that he was not a figment of her imagination.

"You were underground?" Dave asked steadily, attempting to keep his voice neutral and even, a harder task than he had envisioned.

"I'm not sure. I think so. There were dirt floors…I remember feeling it against my knees when I crawled toward L-lacy," JJ stuttered, closing her eyes as her mind drew a sudden image of her baby sister, the sight almost taking her breath again. "I remember the trap door being opened and his arm lowering with the needles. He made us all take the shot. One after the other…" she trailed off, her body quivering against the aged mattress, her mind sinking slowly into the horrors of that moment.

"JJ?" Dave said quickly, recognizing the situation, his authoritative voice calling her back to him as the memories attempted to overwhelm her again. Waiting for her to nod against him, her silent affirmation, he reminded her, calmly but assertively, "You're safe now, Jen. I'm here."

Nodding again, JJ lifted her head to glance up at his face, the light bathing him in a soft glow. Swallowing hard, her voice catching, she whispered, "You won't leave, right? If I sleep? You won't leave?"

Feeling his throat tighten with emotion as he saw the fear clouding her beautiful eyes, Dave shook his head. "I won't leave," he assured her, his voice husky as he tucked her closer, dragging the bedspread over them both. "Just sleep, okay?"

Nodding again, JJ lowered her head back to his shoulder and closed her eyes, reassuring herself that if there was anyone that might be able to protect her against the monsters lurking in the darkness, it was the larger-than-life man beside her. He'd done it once before, hadn't he?

And as the events of the day slid from her consciousness, her body overwhelmed by the solid feel of the man against her, JJ slept.


	21. Chapter 20

**_Author's Note: Hey, guys! Don't forget to get your nominations in for the CMFanfic Awards! There's a link on my profile page for those of you that need it! It's a great way to let your favorite stories by recognized! Ballots are due by Friday 1/22/10 by 11:59 pm!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty**

Closing the door behind him, Gideon stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, his steps heavier than normal, his mind weighing the situation from every angle. Tucking his book underneath his arm, he turned to move toward his assigned room, feeling for his key in his pocket.

The sound of low voices and footsteps caught his attention, and he instinctively turned toward the sounds, experience having taught him that danger can occur anytime, anyplace. While he wasn't expecting to the blinding attacked in the middle of a badly decorated hotel hallway in Podunk Pennsylvania, he also knew that the worst usually happened when least expected. The woman he had just left was living proof of that premise.

Stuffing a hand in his pocket, Gideon casually leaned against the wall as he recognized Hotch and Emily heading in his direction. His eyes easily catalogued the lines drawing at Hotch's lips, the heavy set of Emily's shoulders, and the deliberate slowness in their steps. Whatever the couple was discussing was of utmost importance, the burden of the conversation obvious even in the muted light.

"Long night?" Gideon asked calmly, his face neutral as he waited for them to draw closer.

Tugging at his tie, Hotch looked up, his lips tightening even more as he saw Gideon. Nodding at Emily, he said softly, "Go ahead and tell him."

Pressing a hand to her lower back as she shifted from side to side, the kinks in her spine tighter than normal, Emily sighed as she met the eyes of the older man. "Seems that the locals had completely contaminated the crime scene. It's going to take us hours to piece together anything they might have missed. And of course, their evidence gathering skills left quite a bit to the imagination. Or so Morgan reported. His choice of words were a bit more descriptive than mine."

"Things must have gone downhill since Locke Jareau ran that place. JJ's father was a stickler for details," Gideon mused, shaking his head.

Nodding toward JJ's door, Hotch asked, his eyebrow raised, "Speaking of JJ, didn't you just come out of her room? Everything okay?"

"We've had a tense hour, but I think things are under control now," Gideon answered evasively, uncertain how much Rossi would want disclosed about the events of the past evening.

"Jason, could you be a little more forthcoming? It's been a long day for all of us, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly reading minds right now," Hotch asked tersely, his dark eyes boring into the older profilers.

Looking between the two suddenly tense men, Emily suggested easily, "Maybe we should move this conversation into one of our rooms, gentlemen?" Turning toward her door, she quickly inserted her key in the lock, looking over her shoulder as she asked, "I don't think we necessarily want to stand in the middle of the hallway having this kind of collaboration, do we?"

Glancing toward JJ's closed door, Gideon nodded. "Probably wouldn't be in anyone's best interests at the moment." Following Emily inside the small room, he watched as she automatically moved toward the coffeepot, her steps measured, no wasted energy in her movements.

Closing the door with a decisive click, Hotch turned to focus on Jason's tired face, his mind still on the case. "What happened, Jason?"

"JJ's had a bad few moments tonight, Hotch," Gideon said carefully, leaning his frame against the wall. "Rossi had to tell her about the note that was found on the last body."

"Why the hell would he do that?" Hotch snapped, taking a step forward as the coffeepot clattered against the hot plate as Emily, too, turned to stare at Gideon in openmouthed shock. "We agreed to hold that information for the time being!"

"And evidently JJ asked Dave a direct question," Jason replied slowly. Meeting Aaron's eyes, Gideon said softly, "You, better than anyone, knows that David Rossi doesn't lie to people he cares about."

"Damn it!" Hotch muttered, jamming his hands into his pockets as he paced the small open area in front of Emily's bed, his large gait eating the carpet easily.

"Is JJ okay?" Emily asked calmly, filling the coffee pot with water. "Do I need to…"

"She's sleeping now," Gideon said, cutting her off, shaking his graying head. "And hopefully she'll stay that way for the rest of the night. After what she's been through…"

"What do you mean? I'm sure the note was a shock, but as a trained agent, she's seen things like this happen before," Hotch frowned, his steps stopping mid-stride. "Did something else happen?"

Nodding, Gideon replied, "After Dave told her about the note, she…well, she didn't react well. She was ready to get her father and leave. When Dave grabbed her arm to stop her, it sent her into a flashback."

"Oh God," Emily whispered, cringing at how horrible those images must have been for JJ to bear. Flicking on the red plastic switch, she asked, "Do you know what she remembered? Could she tell you?"

"It was pretty self-explanatory," Jason said, his face tightening with anger as he recalled the terrified look in JJ's eyes, the child-like screams echoing in his ears as she'd begged them not to hurt her. "She remembered the unsub drugging them."

"His face?" Hotch asked hopefully, already wondering if it would be possible to have a sketch artist flown in at daybreak.

"His arm," Gideon said, shaking his head. "More specifically, his arm reaching down and grabbing each child." Directing a meaningful look at Hotch, he added, steadily, "In much the same way Dave grabbed her arm tonight."

"Christ," Hotch sighed, running a hand through his dark locks, his pacing resuming. "You said JJ was sleeping," he said, staring at the other man, "but, how's Dave?"

"He was more than a little shaken when JJ passed out, but once we got her settled in the bed and we could see she was resting comfortably, he stopped threatening to kill me. When I left, he was still blaming himself for sending her over the edge."

"But anything could trigger JJ right now…at any time," Emily said softly, dropping into a chair at the small round table in the corner of the room, leaning against the padded back as she pulled up her legs.

"Told him that," Gid shrugged, dropping his book onto Emily's veneer dresser. "Don't think he was real convinced." Looking at Hotch, Gideon said, "His emotions are close to the surface right now, man. We've both seen him like this before. If one of us pushes too hard, he'll blow. And JJ needs him right now. In fact, whether he likes it or not, he may be the one person to get any valuable information out of her."

"I know," Hotch nodded, his jaw tightening again. "Why do you think I haven't bothered trying to rein him in?"

"Wouldn't do you any good if you did, Aaron. David Rossi is a rule unto himself. Always has been, always will be," Gideon sighed, grabbing the book as he pushed up, moving toward the door. "And in this instance, he might be the only thing that can stave off a breakdown of epic proportions on JJ's part. Especially if this thing starts goin' south."

"We're on the same page, Jason," Hotch agreed, mentally noting to keep a closer eye on the older profiler for the next few days. "Go get some sleep. I've gotta feeling tomorrow is going to be one long ass day."


	22. Chapter 21

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-One **

Watching as his former mentor left the room, the scarred wooden door closing with a click behind him, Hotch let out a long sigh. Turning toward Emily, shoulders slumped, he asked, softly, hopefully, "Any chance you'd share a cup of that coffee? I think I'm going to need it."

"Give it a minute to brew, and the first cup's yours," Emily answered with a gentle smile, reaching for the two ceramic mugs that were placed next to the generic appliance. "Although I'm not sure that it'll be much to savor. I don't think this hotel caters to a gourmet crowd."

"Right now, I'd settle for sucking on raw coffee beans, so don't apologize for the selection, Emily," Hotch said, returning her smile. Watching her measured movements as she dropped the prepared filter into place, he asked, "Are you a coffee aficionado?"

"I appreciate a good brew from nice beans, but I'm not a snob about it," Emily answered easily, her work finished. Turning to lean against the dresser as she watched him pace, she gestured toward the chair in the corner as she said, softly, "Sit down, Hotch. There's no need to wear out this carpet any more than it already is."

Glancing up sharply, Hotch smiled depreciatively as he muttered, "Habit. Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for. But this is just the first day of a very long trip to hell, so I don't think we want to wear ourselves out before we even start, do we?"

Dropping hard into the vinyl chair, his long legs stretching out in front of him, he muttered, "Easier said than done, I'm afraid. I already feel that we're further behind that we are ahead."

Flicking on the lamp on the bedside table, Emily perched on the edge of the bed as she replied, slowly, "Maybe we'll get more answers tomorrow when Gideon starts the full sessions with JJ."

"Yeah, sure," Hotch said, his doubt evident in his exhausted face. "That's if those sessions don't become a free-for-all between Dave, Gideon and JJ's father. Because in this instance, I'm fairly certain JJ's dad and David aren't gonna appreciate anything at all regarding Gideon's methods."

"I've never seen Gideon regress anyone," Emily said quietly, her mind trying to comprehend the trauma that her younger friend had experienced all those years ago. And now, to have to relive it must be the true definition of hell on earth.

"I have," Hotch said quietly, his words holding far more meaning than their simplicity implied. "And more often than not, it's highly traumatic. And that's when we didn't have any idea what the witness had been though. But with JJ, we already know how bad this is going to be. Jesus, Emily, you've seen the files. And while I know this has to be done, I'm as hesitant as Dave about putting JJ in this position."

"I can see that," Emily said softly, silently noting his tense face, the faint bluish shadows forming underneath his eyes, the worry lines bracketing his wide mouth. "But we both know that Gideon would never intentionally inflict any damage on JJ."

"It's the unintentional repercussions that I'm more concerned with right now," Hotch muttered, rubbing his brow, the slight twinge behind his eyes letting him know that a headache was just around the corner. "This kind of…therapy…it's unpredictable at best. You read the file, Emily. You read what happened all those years ago."

"I saw," Emily nodded as the pungent aroma of brewed coffee wafted in the air around them. "She didn't speak for three months."

"Catatonic," Hotch said quietly. "Our JJ." The idea of the bright blonde liaison in that condition was enough to make him want to shudder. And if he felt that way, he could only imagine what Rossi was experiencing, his depth of feeling running much deeper…much more ingrained.

As the steady drip of coffee finally sputtered to a stop, Emily reached for one of the chipped mugs, pouring him a cup of the steamy dark brew. Sliding the cup in front of him, she murmured, "Sorry…I should have made sure it was decaf first."

Shaking his head, Hotch replied with a rueful smile, "No. I think I'm going to need all the extra fuel I can get."

"You need to sleep, Hotch," Emily gently admonished. Smiling gently, she needled him just a bit as she said, "Our fearless leader can't be seen on the verge of collapse. How would that look to the locals?"

"It's just you and I here, Emily," Hotch chided, holding the mug with both hands as he waited for it to cool slightly. "We both know I'm anything but fearless. And I think you've earned the right to call me Aaron by now, don't you?"

"First, I categorically disagree with the fearless part," Emily snorted, pouring her own cup of coffee and mindlessly adding the powdered sugar the hotel had provided to it. "And number two, for me, Aaron seems more formal than Hotch," she said, flashing him a teasing grin.

"You think so?" Hotch asked, tilting his head as he raised the coffee cup to his lips and took a careful sip. Cringing at the bitter taste, he shook his head, "Definitely not Starbucks."

Taking her own drink, Emily nodded as she agreed, "Not even close."

"Unfortunately, I think this is just one of the many aspects about this case that we're going to have to compromise on," Hotch mused, gently placing his cup back on the scarred wooden table as he arched his back in the hard seat, trying to relieve some of the tension in his spine.

Deciding a change of subject was in order if the man sitting in her room was ever going to relax enough to sleep, Emily asked, "Did you call and check on Jack after we landed?"

Nodding, a brief smile cross Hotch's lips. "Fast asleep," he chuckled. "Jessica said that after announcing to his cousins that his daddy was off to fight the bad guys again, he adjusted pretty quickly this time. Jessica is a lot like Haley, you know. Only happily married," he added with a quick glance toward Emily. He had no idea where that had come from or why he'd felt the need to say it.

"That's good," Emily nodded, smiling inwardly as she noted the change in his entire demeanor when he discussed his small son. "He should have someone he feels comfortable with when you have to be away."

"I think he still prefers his sleepovers at Aunt Garcia's when we're gone," he chuckled, shaking his head as he remembered Jack's last excited recount of his night at the colorful technical analyst's apartment.

"That's because Garcia's idea of a balanced meal is a happy meal and a soda pop, followed by homemade brownies with all the sprinkles he can handle," Emily laughed, feeling herself start to relax.

"According to Jack, her bedtime stories are 'way cooler', too," Hotch grinned, the smile actually reaching his eyes.

"God only knows what our erstwhile tech has told him," Emily said, rolling her eyes.

"Not sure," Hotch said, shaking his head, "He won't tell. At any rate, let's just hope we have a happy ending to take home to him."

Reaching across the old table, Emily covered the hand resting against it. "We will. But I still would have preferred the theater filled with kids with you and Jack to this."

Meeting her dark eyes, Hotch nodded, the smile fading as reality set in again. "That makes two of us, Emily."


	23. Chapter 22

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Dropping into the faded vinyl chair in the corner of the dimly lit sheriff's office, Derek Morgan groaned as he stretched out his legs. Dropping his head back against the dark paneled wall, he muttered, "Someone tell me good news. Any news. I'm not picky."

Her eyes glued to the mass of cables in her hands, Penelope Garcia muttered, "Wrong time, wrong place, wrong universe for that, Sunshine." Slapping the edge of a non-working USB cord against a metal desk, she added, darkly, "But bad news abounds. In droves."

Cracking open one eye, Morgan watched as the technical genius threw the assorted cables to the desktop, her normally cheerful expression changed for one of obvious discontent. "Something wrong with your technical doodads, Pretty Girl?"

"Nothing that a soldering torch, a few stray volts of current and a determination to commit homicide wouldn't take care of," she said, frowning down at the jumble, reaching for a neon green cord and jamming it into the port on her favorite laptop, barely resisting the urge to run screaming out into the streets. Jerking her head around quickly, she asked, "And where is Reid? He's supposed to be back by now."

"Where did he go?" Morgan asked cluelessly, his eyes scanning the otherwise empty room, the tall, lanky good doctor nowhere in sight.

"For piping hot, caffeine-laden coffee," Garcia answered succinctly, her attention firmly on the connection of computers that currently spread across three desks and a rolling cart.

Just then, the door slammed open, and a flustered Spencer Reid moved into the small office, his hands juggling two trays full of Styrofoam cups. Steam floated tantalizingly from the hot liquid, causing Morgan to jump up quickly and relieve Reid partially of his burden.

"Thanks, Derek," the young genius said appreciatively, dropping the other tray on the edge of the nearest desk.

Garcia's yelp vibrated through the room just then, though, as she turned on her spike heel. "Not there! Can't you see I just set up the side server and printers there?"

"Sorry, Garcia," Reid said contritely, shifting the tray quickly to the desk beside Morgan. Catching the other profiler's arched look, Reid glanced over his shoulder, then said, whispering, "Garcia's a bit on edge. It seems that the locals are not in possession of any of the latest hardware, which has…"

"Completely thrown my plan for world domination and victim identification into the proverbial crapper," Garcia snapped out sharply, her eyes narrowing as she trained them on the two men. "Do you have any idea how far behind these people are up here? Do you? They make the Amish look progressive!"

"Preaching to the choir, Baby Girl," Morgan said tiredly, reaching for one of the cups of coffee, sipping appreciatively.

Raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow heavenward, Garcia tilted her head. "Why do I get the feeling that somebody through a wrench in your engine, too, Handsome?"

"Because you are a perceptive, awe-inspiring goddess that knows my moods better than I do," Morgan replied, flashing her a wide grin as he winked at her, taking another sip.

Snorting, Penelope rolled her eyes as she reached for a Styrofoam cup, blowing against the steaming liquid. "Save your flattery and spill. What the hell could have gone wrong in the hour that we've been here?"

"Don't ask," Reid muttered, dropping to his knees to plug in one of the black cables to her computer.

"Mama, the bumbling hicks trashed our dump site. We'll be lucky if forensics has any luck finding anything after the way the locals trampled the place. I wanna know who the hell runs this joint," Morgan said, his voice low in the deserted police station, "Bozo the Clown?"

"I hear ya," Penelope replied, bobbing her head wildly, the cup bouncing in her fingers. "Do YOU realize these people aren't even set-up for wireless…they're still using freaking dial-up! DIAL-UP, Morgan! Nomads wandering in the Sahara don't even use dial-up!"

"I'm gonna pray that you've got a way around that, Baby Girl," Morgan sighed, glancing around the computer filled room, hoping a solution would suddenly fall from the sky.

"Working the issue now, Hot Stuff," Penelope grunted as she gave an angry push to the desk against the wall, invoking the wrath of the computer gods underneath her breath.

"Princess," Morgan asked with a raised brow, "whatcha doin' over there?"

"I am, ughhhh," she growled, shoving at the desk again, "trying," she bit out, "to get to this electrical socket back here!" Taking a step back, she angrily blew her multi-colored hair out of her eyes as she glared at the heavy metal desk. Turning sparkling eyes toward him, she ground out, "ASK me how many power supplies are in this office?! Just ask me!"

"How many, Sweetthing?" Morgan asked obediently, casting his eyes around the room in search of extra outlets, finding none.

"TWO!" Penelope shouted, throwing her hands up. "And one is behind THIS piece of crap desk!" she said, angrily kicking its side.

Crossing the room quickly, Morgan soothed, pulling her away from the offending piece of furniture. "Easy, Mama. I got this for you." Easily pulling the desk out of the way, he turned and said, satisfied, "There…no office mutilation necessary."

"Yet," Penelope muttered darkly, stepping around him to plug in the power strip.

Crawling off the floor, Reid smiled victoriously, flicking a power switch. "Laptop is up, running and hooked to the main computer, Garcia."

Sighing, Pen nodded, offering Reid a small, albeit forced, smile. "Many thanks, my little genius boy," she murmured, patting his cheek.

"Hey, I moved a three hundred pound desk for you," Morgan griped, his lips pulling into a pout.

"And you shall have your just desserts at a time of my choosing," Penelope winked at him.

"Mmm Hmmm," Morgan hummed, leering at her. Glancing around the crowded room as he caught sight of the old fashioned clock on the wall, he added, seriously, "Listen, Baby Girl, we need to all think about getting back over to the hotel and grabbing some shut eye before morning. You about ready to go?"

Frowning, Pen shook her head, turning back to tap at the booting laptop. "Too much to do. You guys go ahead. I've got a perfectly good couch right there," she said, jabbing a finger toward the old leather sofa in the corner.

"Nuh uh," Morgan said, shaking his head. "Nobody separates here, Garcia," he said firmly. "Hotch's orders," he declared quickly as she opened her mouth to argue.

"Oh, come on, Derek! I'm in a freaking police station. What's gonna happen?" Pen asked impatiently, huffing as she jammed a printer connector into the USB port of the desktop computer.

"Don't know," Morgan shrugged. "And don't wanna find out," he added meaningfully. "You can walk out of here on those cute little feet of yours or I can throw you over my shoulder. Your choice."

"Reid," Garcia pleaded, turning to face the frazzled agent,"Tell the big bad agent to stand down."

"You're kidding, right?" Reid snorted, straightening his cardigan as he eyed Morgan's tall frame as he stood against the door arms crossed over his chest.

Rolling her eyes, Garcia groaned. "You're both pathetic," she muttered, grabbing her vinyl sunflower purse with a jerk. "But for the record, I'm doing this for Jayje, because I want to be there when she wakes up in the morning…NOT because you told me to," she growled, glaring at Derek, slapping his solid chest.

"Whatever you say, Sweetness. Let's go," Morgan said, holding the door open as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Your chariot awaits."


	24. Chapter 23

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Dropping his hand to the small of her back, David Rossi smiled confidently into the pensive face of Jennifer Jareau. "You still doing okay, JJ?"

Nodding once, her blonde ponytail swinging slightly, JJ stared up at the man that had become her friend, protector, and God only knew what else. His mere presence seemed to soothe her frazzled nerves, and she had decided last night to quit questioning why. She needed him too much to waste precious energy debating the issue. Last night had only proven that to her.

Waking up in the middle of the night, her mind screaming in terror as she had fought the visions once again, she had collapsed into his waiting arms. It had taken her half an hour to even reach a point that she could think straight, let alone speak coherently. And he had merely held her, comforting her with the strength of his arms and the gentleness of his words, promising her repeatedly that no one would ever hurt her again. And she believed him. She didn't know why…but she did.

Shielding her eyes against the bright morning sun, she let herself lean against him for a bare second as she whispered, "It seems so different here today."

"What does?" Rossi asked, not wanting to push her or put words into her mouth, knowing that she needed to verbalize her emotions if possible.

"This town," JJ replied, looking around the old-timey main street that ran through the center of Sunshine, Pennsylvania. Her eyes seemed to take in everything at once as she and Dave walked down the worn sidewalk. Taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air, she murmured, "Even the air seems different now."

Raising an eyebrow, Rossi said with a slight grin, "That's because you've spent too much time in the city, honey. It takes your lungs a while to get used to smog-free air, you know."

Catching a glimpse of herself in a passing shop window, her reflection distorted in the aged glass, she tried to nod at his simple statement, her mind slipping from subject to subject. "You said that Gideon's meeting us at the diner, right? And Daddy?"

"That's right," Rossi agreed, catching a glimpse of the small sign up ahead that identified the restaurant. "I'm assuming your father is well acquainted with this place?"

"He ought to be. He arrives at 6:45 AM every morning like clockwork, sits in the same booth and orders the same breakfast," JJ said, a smile finally playing on her lips as she hurried her steps, knowing that her father was just a few feet away. "It's been a while since I've been able to come home, though, so he might have changed the food selection, but I doubt anything else has changed. Small towns and small town folks rarely do."

Nodding, Dave murmured, "The rest of the team should already be there." Reaching the glass plated door, Dave slowly opened it, allowing JJ to precede him inside, the bell over their heads tinkling as they entered.

Walking toward the back of the diner, Dave close behind her, JJ smiled at the familiar sights and smells. Some things really never changed…and this place was one of them. As she made her way past the row of stools at the front counter, JJ started as she heard a familiar cracked voice call, "Jenny?"

Turning, JJ's eyes lit up as she saw one of the most dear faces from her past facing her. "Mr. Gibbs?"

"Well, I'll be double damned! Your daddy wasn't pullin' my leg," Jackson Gibbs bellowed. "Come, give an old man a hug!" he ordered, holding his arms out.

Dave watched as a silver haired man with familiar faded blue eyes pulled JJ into a tight embrace, her feet briefly leaving the floor in his exuberance.

Releasing the young woman to pull back and stare down into her tired face, Jackson shook his head. "Your daddy told me what was goin' on, girl. You shouldn't be here, honey."

Smiling tightly, JJ shook her head. "We both know that I had to, Mr. Gibbs," JJ said softly.

"Who's the young fella with ya?" Jackson said, narrowing his eyes to nod behind her.

Turning, JJ gestured toward Rossi. "Mr. Gibbs, this is SSA David Rossi with the Behavorial Analysis Unit. He's one of the senior profilers on our team. Dave, this is Jackson Gibbs. I worked all through school at his hardware store down the street. He and daddy are old friends. They served in Vietnam together."

"Rossi," Jackson mused, squinting his eyes. "I know that name."

"You look familiar, too," Dave murmured, eyeing the older man.

"Well," JJ said, looking between the two men, "Dave is also an author, Mr. Gibbs."

"Does he write the sports scores?" Mr. Gibbs asked.

"'Fraid not," JJ laughed, shaking her head at the old man. "Crime novels."

Snorting, Jackson shook his head. "There's enough horror in the world. I don't wanna read about it, too," he said, waving a hand dismissively as he leaned on his cane. Nodding toward the back of the diner, Jackson said quietly, "Just left your daddy's table…he's back there." Nailing JJ with a hard look, Jackson ordered, "You stay safe, girl. Your daddy couldn't live through losin' another young'un." Glaring at Rossi, he growled, "And YOU fools make sure she stays that way! She shouldn't even be here!"

"Couldn't agree more," Dave muttered.

"I'll be fine, Mr. Gibbs," JJ soothed, patting his arms. "You take care of yourself."

"You sing out if you need me, Jenny," Jackson said over his shoulder. "I'll be around."

Watching as the old man limped toward the glass door, Dave turned his gaze toward JJ. "Interesting character," Dave said with a wink at her as he jerked his head towards Mr. Gibbs.

"You'll find several of them running around," JJ nodded. "I warned you," she said over her shoulder as they made her way to her father's booth, "Small town life."


	25. Chapter 24

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Resting her hand gently against her aging father's turned back as he sat in the booth facing Jason Gideon, JJ leaned down as she looked at his half eaten plate in front of him and whispered into his ear, "There'd better not have been anything fried on that plate, Daddy."

Jerking his head up at the sound of his daughter's lilting achingly familiar voice against his ear, Locke Jareau's lean worried face automatically evolved into a wide smile. Turning his head, he teased, "Do I need to remind you who exactly the parent is in this equation, Sprite?"

Watching as her father quickly scooted out of the booth as fast as his aging body would permit and turned to envelop her in a crushing embrace, JJ's eyes slid shut. No one's arms had ever held her tighter…been any more welcome than her father's protective limbs.

Burying his face in his daughter's sweet smelling hair, Locke closed his eyes and allowed himself to be carried back in time. How many times had he held his little girl in his arms? Hundreds? Thousands? Didn't matter, because each time, he felt like he held the world. After Lacy's death, he and her mother had held on to Jennifer tightly with both hands, desperately afraid that they'd somehow lose another child. Lose the only child they had left. Pressing a kiss to her warm temple, Locke whispered, "As much as I love you, I could turn you across my knee for being here. This is the last place you should have come."

"We both knew that I'd come home, Daddy," JJ whispered against the open collar of his denim shirt, the familiar scent of Old Spice and the cigarettes he wasn't supposed to have teasing her nose. "You've been smoking," JJ accused softly, holding her father tighter. "You know what the doctors said about that."

"One day I'm gonna get it into that thick skull of yours that the child doesn't give the parent orders, Sprite," Locke chuckled, squeezing her to him one last time before easing her back to take a good look at her. Scanning her thin body, he shook his head. "You've lost more weight, Girl," he chastised. "They don't have grocery stores down there in the big city?"

"Daddy," JJ sighed, listening to his old rebuke. She'd been hearing the same gentle admonishment since the first time she'd come home on college break. "I eat. I just have a high metabolism. Like mama did," she reminded him for what had to be the millionth time.

"Pshaw," Locke grunted. "You're thin for the same reason that your mama was. Both of you never could stand to take the time it took to sit still long enough to eat a decent meal." Eyes training on the quiet man standing behind her, Locke's eyes met David Rossi's. "Never thought I'd be seein' you again."

Holding a hand out to Locke, Dave nodded, mentally cataloguing that the years had been kind to the older man. "The feeling is mutual Locke. At any rate, I never thought it would be under these conditions."

Shaking his hand with a firm grip, Locke's lips tightened, his tone censorious. "Ya'll shouldn't have brought her back here, Rossi. It was a mistake."

"I agree," Dave nodded, his voice even. "But, your daughter was fairly insistent. And you, better than anyone, should know how determined she can be when pushed."

"So, I take it her participation in the case wasn't your idea then?" Locke asked, his brows furrowing as his eyes darkened. "I'd never have guessed that. Figured you would have been the first on the bandwagon to drag her here."

"The man I was twenty five years ago probably would have," Dave conceded with a short nod. "Times change," he added with a meaningful look, his dark eyes meeting Locke's over JJ's glistening head.

Glancing over her shoulder at Dave and back to her father's assessing gaze, JJ asked, "Do you think you two might stop talking about me like I wasn't here?" Turning her eyes back to her daddy, JJ met eyes identical to hers. "It was my decision, Daddy. And nobody was going to change my mind."

"Maybe so, Daughter," Locke grunted. "But somebody up there in that fancy Bureau of yours certainly endorsed the notion," he added with a pointed look at her colleagues surrounding them. "So, my question is, which one of you yahoos was responsible for it?"

"I don't think the blame can be placed with one person, Mr. Jareau," Hotch said steadily from his seat beside Emily. "All of us here are aware that your daughter has an incredible amount to contribute to the apprehension of this unsub, both as a seasoned agent and as a former witness to his crimes."

"Do us both a favor, Kid," Locke recommended over his shoulder, not even bothering to turn his head, "Don't bother trying to stonewall me with pretty words. I can see that approach comin' a mile away."

Eyes widening at the use of the word "kid", Hotch shook his head. When was the last time someone had discounted his years of experience? Especially someone who was technically considered a victim's family? Clearing his throat, Hotch leaned forward, his words directed to the back of Locke's head, "I assure you that wasn't what I was attempting to…"

"Save your breath, Hotch," Gideon muttered with a short shake of his head. He knew it would be entirely too easy to make an enemy of Locke Jareau, nee McClellan, at this point. And, more importantly, it had been at his insistence that they include JJ in this manhunt. "If you want to blame somebody, Locke, blame me," Gideon said firmly, his direct gaze finding the older man's as he turned. "I more or less demanded that JJ be included in this."

"And to think," Locke said tightly, his jaw clenching as he looked toward Dave, "I always thought that YOU were the one that took too many unnecessary risks."

"Like I said, Locke, times change," Dave shrugged, noting that Locke hadn't released his grip on his daughter. Like any father, Dave knew the other man's primary goal was the same as his, to protect JJ at all costs. And for the first time, he felt an odd sort of kinship with the elder man. Considering their volatile past, that in and of itself was a strange experience. "We'll be here to make sure they don't push too hard, Locke. But your kid," he said, nodding to JJ, "is hellbent to do this."

Frowning, Locke stared down at his daughter's pinched face. "That true, Sprite?"

"Daddy, you already know it is," JJ sighed, raising a hand to squeeze her father's bicep. At seventy, he'd lost some of his muscle mass, but he was still a solid man…a strong man. But above his physical stamina, JJ knew that her father had the mental fortitude of an immovable ox. And this was going to take some serious tap-dancing to convince him that she was needed here. So she pulled out her trump card early. "Daddy, I have to do this. For Lacy."

Paling slightly at the mention of his youngest daughter, Locke felt his heart twist in his chest. Lacy. His baby. His bright innocent little girl that had always had a smile that could light up even the darkest of rooms. Mentally shaking his head, he debated how best to respond to his older daughter's argument. Because God knew, he couldn't let her do this without a fight. He'd already had one daughter sacrificed to the sick twisted hand of the murdering bastard yet again currently terrorizing his small town. And he'd almost lost the other to him as well.

Clearing his throat, Locke shook his head firmly, silver hair shagging slightly. "Your sister wouldn't have wanted you to put yourself in danger. Neither would you mama. And neither do I. You've already given up too much in your childhood for us to ever want you to do that. You never got to be a normal kid after that bastard took you from us. Partly because of what you'd been through…and partially because your mama and I were just too damned scared to let you out of our sight after we got you back. Why the hell should you be expected to give up anymore of yourself?" he asked her with a glare at Jason Gideon.

"Because my mind might hold some pretty valuable answers, Daddy," JJ answered with quiet patience. "And YOU know it."

"I also KNOW what happened the last time that jackass," he growled heavily, nodding at Jason again, "went rootin' around in your mind, Sprite. Some things, honey, are just better left alone."


	26. Chapter 25

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"You don't really mean that, Daddy," JJ said with a shake of her blonde head, her pony tail swishing from side to side. "Especially when we both know that my memories could mean the difference between letting some psychotic masochist roam free and catching Lacy's killer."

"I do mean that," Locke declared harshly, wrapping his hand gently around his daughter's arms and shaking her slightly. "Three months, Girl! You didn't say a word to your mama, me, or anybody else for three hellish months. You just sat…so still…staring into space, your little face blanker than that wall over there. We thought we'd lost you just as much as we'd lost your baby sister, Jennifer! And for what?" Turning to glare accusingly at Jason Gideon, Locke jabbed a finger in his direction as he yelled, "YOU didn't get a damned thing. The only thing you did was take away what made my little girl MY little girl, damn you! And now, after all these years, YOU wanna go dancin' around her brain again!"

"It's a necessary evil, Locke," Gideon stated evenly, keeping his voice carefully emotionless, knowing that if he showed the slightest weakness that Dave and JJ's father would exploit it. The man had proven to be a formidable ally, and opponent, in the past, and Jason would definitely prefer to be on the same side in this current battle.

"Necessary to whom?" Locke bit out, his brow furrowing deeper as he turned a harsh glare in Gideon's direction.

Standing there as her father's weathered face flushed angrily, JJ shook her head, trying to catch his attention. "Daddy," she urged softly, tugging at his arm, her fingers tightening on his wrist, "please calm, down. Please? For me?" she begged anxiously, the overhead fluorescent lights giving her an excellent view of his reddening cheeks. "You don't wanna get your blood pressure up, do you?" she asked, flashing a worried look over her shoulder at Dave, silently pleading for his help.

Seeing her cue, Dave immediately stepped forward, resting a gentle hand against JJ's back as he suggested, calmly, "Look, why don't we all sit down and have a cup of coffee. I know for a fact that JJ needs to try and eat something. We can debate all this later."

Glancing down at his daughter's wan face, Locke nodded, his thoughts switching to his daughter's immediate well-being. "Feeding her? That's an idea that I'm firmly in favor of."

Dragging a couple of wooden chairs toward the booth, Dave guided JJ into a seat as Locke lowered his aged body back into the booth beside Hotch. Looking around, Dave frowned, asking, "Where's everybody else?"

"Morgan and Reid are already out on the scene with some of the local law enforcement. And Garcia's already hard at work back at the station. Morgan had to nearly drag her in here by the hair for a quick bite," Emily replied, dropping her cup of surprisingly good coffee back to the saucer on the worn table. "She's definitely a woman on a mission," Emily sighed, offering JJ a rueful grin, both of them well accustomed to their technical genius and her workaholic tendencies.

"She's trying to find the unsub's other victims, right?" JJ asked hesitantly, flashing her father an uncertain look as she wondered how much she should divulge in front of him.

Catching the flash of anxiety on his girl's face, Locke ordered, "Don't even think of trying to handle me, Sprite? Better than you have tried and failed," he muttered, looking between Rossi and Gideon, his glare speaking volumes.

Quickly leaning forward in her seat beside Hotch, Emily nodded, answering JJ's earlier question. "She is, Jayje."

"Any progress yet?" Dave asked, dropping into the straight backed chair beside JJ, dropping his arm over the back of her chair, his fingers touching her shoulder. Seconds later, a harried waitress dropped two ceramic cups and saucers of fragrant coffee in front of them, steam rising in slow waves from the hot liquid.

"Honestly, she's probably only just got started," the lady beside Jason Gideon said, finally speaking for the first time since JJ had stepped toward the table.

Blinking slowly as she leaned closer, JJ gasped. "Anne? Anne Fortner?" JJ asked, her eyes wide as she took in the uniformed officer beside Jason, her navy blues neatly pressed and hair pulled loosely into a bun at the nape of her neck.

"It's me, JJ," Anne nodded, leaning her elbows against the table to peer around Jason's body. "I figured it might help you to see a friendly face this morning so I volunteered to liaise with your team," Anne explained, her friendly smile a welcome sight.

"But…wait…you're in Tulsa," JJ frowned, trying to make sense of her memories, certain that her former friend was living in another town. "I thought your husband was transferred out there after college," JJ added, shaking her head.

"He was. Only he's my ex-husband now. And after the divorce, I decided to come home and put my law enforcement degree to good use in somewhere I cared about. I'm a deputy now," Anne explained easily, her hand ghosting against her badge, a gentle reminder of her calling. Glancing at the rest of the inquisitive faces around the table, Anne explained, "JJ and I graduated high school together."

Chuckling, Locke rolled his eyes, fingers wrapping around the curved handle of his coffee cup. "And did most everything else together. Including give their daddies this grey hair on top of my head."

"Now, Mr. Jareau," Anne chided, her bright eyes laughing, "We weren't that bad, were we?"

"So, you're with us on this case?" JJ asked with a genuine smile, relieved to have one more person that she could trust implicitly involved in what was sure to be a trying ordeal. Not to mention the small fact that Anne knew her history…knew the nightmares from her past. One less person that she'd have to explain herself to, thank God.

"I am if you'll have me," Anne nodded, winking at her old friend. She and JJ had been joined at the hip during high school, escapades in and out of class their normal pattern. College, different career paths and an idiot of an ex-husband had separated them, but they'd still managed a hit and miss relationship over the years. Hopefully, Anne thought with a winged prayer, they could spend this time re-bonding. God knew, she could use a female perspective about her life. Especially from someone that knew her as well as her one-time best friend.

"Of course," JJ smiled willingly, her shoulders relaxing slightly against Dave's arm, the tension loosening for a moment.

"Hopefully this time around we can avoid getting in trouble over sneaking down to the stables with a six pack," Anne chuckled, deliberately trying to lighten the banked pain in her old friend's eyes.

Snapping his fingers at those words, Locke looked at his daughter. "Speaking of the stables, Sprite, guess who's dropped their foal?" Locke winked over the top of his cup.

"Snowball's grandbaby finally made an appearance?" JJ asked, her face lighting up as she sipped her own coffee, the liquid warming her throat.

"Sure did. I thought maybe this afternoon, you and I could make a trek over to Mike Conway's place and see her," Locke said hopefully, glancing over to include Rossi in his statement. "She's a pretty little thing."

"I'd love that, daddy," JJ nodded, relieved to see her father's face had began to relax at the change of subject. Catching her father's last words, she asked, clarifying, "You say Mike Conway's place?"

"Yeah," Locke nodded, taking a sip of his coffee, "He offered to board the horses for me after my heart attack in exchange for farming that back forty acres on the farm. Seemed like a good deal, so I took it." Dropping his cup back to the table, he nodded, his wizened face smiling. "I'll tell you what, honey, that boy has come up in the world since ya'll all graduated high school. Got a real good business head on his shoulders. He hired a wonder with the horses, too. He's a hell of a trainer and it doesn't hurt that he's got a background in some way or another with veterinary medicine. Boy by the name of Nick Hastings. Good boy, that Nick. Don't you think, Annie?" Locke asked, winking at Anne across the table.

Blushing, Anne rolled her eyes at JJ's father, ducking her head slightly. "One date, Mr. Jareau. We had one date."

"To date, Annie girl. One date to date," Locke teased, leaning back against the aged vinyl.

"He's a great guy," Anne groaned, meeting JJ's eyes down the table. "But he's not my type," Anne added with a pointed look at Locke.

"Maybe you should change your kind of man then, girlie. Cause I think that kid's a catch," Locke snorted, rolling his eyes as he mock-glared at his daughter's highschool friend.

Shaking her head at her father, JJ smiled widely, enjoying the innocent byplay. "Leave Anne alone, Daddy. I think she can pick out her own dates."

Crossing his arms over his broad chest as he shifted in the booth, Locke looked between the two girlhood friends. "Well, I think that you both best get busy. I think I speak for Anne's daddy, too, when I say I'd like to see at least one grandbaby before ya'll have to plant me in the concrete orchard."

Watching her team members exchange laughing glances, JJ couldn't help but wonder if her father's only goal in life was to mortify her on purpose. Flashing Dave an embarrassed look as he winked at her, JJ admonished, tapping her father's aged hand, "Daddy, stop! And quit talking about dying. You don't get to die!"

Seeing Locke open his mouth again, Anne cut in smoothly, determined to forestall another discussion between father and daughter, "JJ, did you see who was working the counter up front? Molly Akins!"

"Really?" JJ asked suddenly, looking over her shoulder towards the long counter at the front of the diner. "She's back, too?"

"Yeah, with two little kids and a tattoo," Anne laughed, her eyes widening at the thought. "Wanna go say hello?" she asked.

"I'd love to," JJ said immediately, pushing back her chair as it scraped against the scarred wooden floor. Seeing Dave automatically rise to accompany her, she gently pushed him back down in his chair.

"JJ," he muttered, his eyes glinting an unspoken warning as he wrapped his larger hand over her small fingers.

"I'm fine," she replied quietly, turning her fingers to squeeze against his. "You can see me from there and we're both armed."

Nodding once, Dave swallowed, still uncomfortable with the idea of being that far from her side. "No sudden moves," he ordered softly, his tone implacable.

Nodding again as Anne moved to her side, JJ grinned, squeezing his fingers again, letting go slowly.

"Let's go get the dirt," Anne laughed as they left the table, skirting through the heavily populated restaurant.

Waiting until his daughter was out of earshot, Locke glared around the table at the assembled agents. "Well, now, now that we've got my little girl occupied, maybe you could all explain to me what the hell you think you're doing," Locke ordered in a hard voice.


	27. Chapter 26

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"We're trying to find your daughter's murderer, Locke," Gideon said with typical blunt honesty, not bothering to couch his words as he stared at the older man sitting across from him. "We're trying to right a wrong twenty-five years late."

"And you think you're gonna do this by dragging my baby on a journey back through the bowels of hell, huh?" Locke spat, his color climbing as he realized just how determined the people around him were.

"It's necessary," Gideon returned unapologetically, steepling his fingers. "And somewhere in you, you know that, Locke."

"She can't remember, damn you!" Locke ground out, leaning forward and pressing his palms against the scarred Formica table. "I let you try all those years ago, Gideon. I stood there while you went digging and I watched my little girl fade away right in front of my own eyes. And you're here asking me to do it again."

"We're not asking YOU to do anything, Mr. Jareau," Emily said softly, leaning around Hotch to catch the older man's attention. "We're not asking, period. Your daughter WANTS to do this," Emily stressed, her words calm.

"And if it helps, Locke," Dave said deeply, his eyes watching JJ's animated face talking with the waitress at the front of the diner, "she's already starting to remember. At least, bits and pieces."

"What do you mean?" Locke asked sharply, his eyes swinging to the other man that had stood beside him that long ago night when one daughter had been found and one had been lost.

Clearing his voice as he took a sip of the diner coffee, Hotch looked at Gideon as he said, evenly, "Jason, why don't you start this? Mr. Jareau would probably like to hear your plan and how we need his assistance."

"I don't care which one of you youngsters start yapping first, but I want answers before my little girl gets back over here," Locke said, glaring from man to man as he clattered his coffee cup against the solid white saucer, his fingers jerky as his anger seeped out. "And start with why she looks like she's seen a ghost."

Settling back against the vinyl booth, Gideon nodded as he said, calmly, "Probably because she did, in a fashion. JJ experienced a flashback last night."

His eyes filling with rage, JJ's father slapped his hand on the ancient table as he said in a controlled yell, "You put her through that hell without me being there? I thought we had an agreement, you son of a…."

Raising a hand in silent interruption, Gideon said calmly, "It was a spontaneous memory, Locke. We didn't deliberately regress her. Her mind did it to her all on her own without any help or prompting."

"What Gideon's not saying is that she was provoked," Rossi added darkly, leaning back in his chair as he caught Locke's eye, unwilling to let the older man continue without full disclosure. "She got spooked, and it was my fault."

"It could have been anyone or anything to snap her back right now, Dave," Gideon replied evenly, then looked at Locke as he said, "Dave was the one who touched her arm, causing the spontaneous memory. But it was best that he was there, because JJ needed support."

Letting out a deep breath, Locke looked from one profiler to the other as he said, gruffly, "My Jenny, she was okay, though?"

"She recovered," Jason said simply, not giving away any more details than necessary as he kept his eyes trained on the older man. "And she remembered that she had been kept in a hole in the ground. And that she was drugged."

"You were both there with her?" Locke asked, looking from one man to the other as he processed that information, the father in him cringing at the horrors his daughters had suffered. "And she came out of it okay?"

"She was a little out of it afterward, but, yeah, she came out of it," Dave said without looking at the elder Jareau, his eyes instead focused on the blonde head at the front of the restaurant. Watching her lean across the counter to talk to another woman about her age, he felt himself relax slightly as he saw her grin widely, her hands moving quickly as she talked with her old friends.

"Look, Locke, last night proved to us that JJ can do this and not lose her mind. It was tough on her, but I truly believe that she needs to do this…for the case and for herself," Gideon offered, his tone determined as he faced down one of JJ's biggest protector.

Seeing the skeptical look on Locke's face that clearly said he remained unconvinced, Gid continued, "Locke, things are a lot different than they were twenty five years ago. JJ's not a scared, traumatized child anymore."

"Now, wait a minute!" Dave said abruptly, turning sharply as he narrowed his eyes at his former partner. "Even I disagree on that one. She might not be a child anymore, but I'd definitely say that what I saw last night qualified as scared and traumatized. Don't paint her in a better condition that she's in, Jason. Don't lie and mislead him. He's earned the right to know the truth. The entire truth," Dave asserted heavily, glaring at Jason before turning his eyes to find JJ once more.

"I'm not lying, Dave," Jason sighed, his fingers outlining the edge of the his saucer. "But even you have to agree that it's different now."

"Not by much," Dave grumbled out of the corner of his mouth, never pulling his eyes away from the woman that had quickly become more important to him than anyone in his vast sphere of influence.

"Listen to me. Both of you," Gideon ordered, with a pointed look at Dave. Tempering his voice, he said, knowledgably, "JJ has had twenty five years to develop shields and coping mechanisms she didn't have as a child. Her mind won't give her more than she can handle."

"You said those words to me once before, Jason," Locke said seriously, shaking his silver head as he remembered those dark days from years ago. "And I very nearly lost what was left of my daughter. I don't want that to happen again. Tell me, can you promise that it won't?"

"Of course I can't, Locke," Gideon replied impatiently, his brow furrowing. "There are never any guarantees with the human psyche. There aren't any certainties. But I'm very good at what I do and I've only gotten better over the years," he added confidently, nodding as he leaned forward, warming to his topic.

"And that conceit of yours very nearly crippled my daughter once before," Locke snorted, reaching for the coffee pot in the center of the table, deftly filling his cup again.

"That isn't conceit, sir," Hotch averred quietly from Locke's side, his tone respectful but confident. "He has a history of unqualified success on his side."

"With a healthy dose of arrogance mixed in for good measure," Dave grumbled darkly, privately agreeing with Locke Jareau.

Eyeing Dave again, Locke shook his head, his words slightly dubious, "In a thousand years, I never thought you'd be the one on my side, Rossi."

"I'm not on your side," Dave returned easily, meeting the bright blue eyes that were reminiscent of the woman at the counter. "I'm on hers," he said, nodding toward JJ, watching her smile at a friend. "It just happens to coincide with yours."

Sighing, Locke knew he was going to have to concede defeat, mainly because he knew his daughter would ultimately do what she believed to be best. And in that moment, he could kick himself for spending her childhood encouraging that notion. "I'm gonna want to be there," Locke stated firmly, his tone brooking no disagreement.

"No," Dave said immediately, his one word filled with a wealth of meaning.

"What?" Locke asked, narrowing his eyes on the other man, wondering how the man had suddenly lost his previous common sense. "What do you mean, no?"

"I meant exactly what I said. JJ doesn't want you there, Locke," Dave said steadily, meeting the old man's gaze head on, unwilling to waver on a point that JJ had been insistent on.

"Why the hell not?" Locke asked incredulously, waving his hand in the air. "She's my baby…of course I'm gonna be there for her."

"I didn't say you couldn't be there for her," Dave countered, his voice even. "What I'm saying is that you can't be there during the regressions. She doesn't want you in the room."

"Still not following here, boys," Locke growled, looking between Dave and Gideon again, feeling like he had entered an alternate dimension right in the middle of his favorite cafe.

"Mr. Jareau, I think what Agent Rossi is trying to say, and not very eloquently, I might add, is that JJ doesn't want you to have to hear whatever recollections Agent Gideon manages to retrieve," Hotch said, his voice neutral as he tried to smooth the suddenly rocky road in front of them all.

"But, why?" Locke asked, dismayed, his parental desires to protect his child pushing to the front. "I think I have as much right as any of you to hear what my girl's got to say."

"It's not about what rights you're entitled to, sir," Emily clarified quietly, turning in the booth. "She doesn't want you to be hurt by what's she's able to remember. She's trying to protect you. And in this case, we think you need to let her. Because ultimately, it's going to make things easier for her. And we all know that you want this to be as easy on her as conceivably possible."

"Well," Locke snorted, glancing past Hotch at the petite raven haired agent beside him, "You just managed to paint me into a real pretty corner, didn't you?" Taking a sip of coffee, he admitted, grudgingly, "Nicely done, young lady."

"She's good like that," Gideon shrugged as he steadily met Locke's eyes.

"Okay, boys, if I'm not gonna be there, who CAN I count on to put her best interests first?" Gideon asked, tapping his index finger against the table, looking around the small group. "I'm sure as hell not putting my faith in Gideon."

"She won't be doing a damn thing without me there," Dave vowed, forcing his gaze away from JJ and to affix her father with a hard look. "I won't allow him to push her off a cliff, Locke. I can guarantee you of that."

Seeing the honesty of his words burning in the other man's onyx eyes, Locke finally nodded. "I'm holding you to that, Boy."

Seeing JJ and Anne slowly walking back toward the table, Dave said quickly, rising from his chair, "Change the subject, guys. Here she comes."


	28. Chapter 27

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"Sooo," Anne drawled, bumping JJ's shoulder lightly with her own as they leaned against the diner's counter, their friend, Molly, having stepped away to pour some coffee for one of the restaurants other patrons, "What's up with you and Agent Tall, Dark and Gorgeous back there?" she asked, nodding her head slightly at their table in the back.

Jerking her head around to look at Anne, JJ's eyes rounded slightly. "Excuse me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even and low in the small, packed restaurant. One thing she'd learned about small towns; if you wanted to keep a secret, never speak of it in public.

"Oh, please, Jareau," Anne snorted inelegantly, shifting her gunbelt on her waist. "I've known you for over twenty years and I learned a long time ago to recognize your little tells. There's something going on, isn't there?"

"I don't know what in the devil would make you say that," JJ answered evasively, darting her eyes toward Dave again as Anne chuckled. "There's nothing going on, Anne. Agent Rossi and I have a good working relationship. That's it," JJ said firmly, hoping against hope that her old friend would let it go at that, although she doubted it. If Anne held true to form, she wouldn't give up a juicy piece of gossip willingly. But, JJ asked herself again, how did she explain something that she couldn't describe or define herself?

"Men like that one don't look at girls like you as though they'd like to eat you with a spoon unless something has either already happened or is getting ready to happen," Anne replied knowingly, winking at JJ. "So which is it?"

"I am sooo not having this conversation with you," JJ moaned, exchanging a smile with the elderly cook behind the counter when he nodded to her. "Especially NOT here," JJ whispered loudly.

"Aha!" Anne grinned, triumph in her voice. "So, I AM on to something," she murmured proudly. "They don't call me the Birddog for nothing, Jareau!"

"Drop it, Anne," JJ groaned quietly, pushing at her friend's arm. "Nothing's happened. He's just being a supportive co-worker and friend."

"Honey, you're still as clueless as you were when we were seniors in high school and Billy Martell was tryin' to hint around to you for a prom date. That man," she explained softly, motioning toward Dave, "doesn't look at you like any co-worker that I've ever had. And I work with a boatload of men."

"I would recommend that you have your eyes checked then, Old Friend," JJ muttered with a sigh. "David Rossi doesn't see me as anything more than a valued colleague and the only living witness to a decades old crime."

"And YOU are still full of shit," Anne countered bluntly, cocking her head to the side. "And we WILL be exchanging some girl talk over that very thing in the near future. But, for now, maybe you could give me the skinny on that other agent…Gideon, I think his name was. Your boss said that I'd essentially be pairing myself with him over the next few days when he wasn't working with you. What's his deal, JJ?"

"What do you mean?" JJ asked, furrowing her brows as she gazed at her friend, trying to understand her question.

"Well, for starters, is he always so full of himself?" Anne asked, drumming her fingers against the counter. "The way he acts, I'm surprised this place was big enough for him, his ego and all of us."

"Oh, you're just getting a glimpse of the Gideon experience," JJ laughed, shifting against the metal edges on the ancient counter. Leaning toward Anne, she whispered conspiratorially, "It only gets better."

"Oh, holy hell," Anne moaned, pressing a hand to her forehead, "You brought home a prima donna, JJ!"

"A whole team of 'em," JJ agreed with a teasing smile. "My gift to you."

Covering JJ's hand with her own, Anne shook her head at her as she whispered, seriously, "Oh, my friend, you don't have to worry about the crazy guy haunting your nightmares; I may kill you for this! He reminds me of my ex-husband."

A loud crash interrupted their conversation for a moment, plates clattering against the floor in the kitchen as they heard a yell followed by sudden laughter. Turning her attention back to her friend, JJ tilted her head as she asked, intrigued, "Really? How so?"

"Brilliant mind, no inter-personal skills whatsoever," Anne grunted with a quick glare toward Jason. Seeing the tall man embroiled in what appeared to be an in depth conversation with JJ's dad, she sighed. "Although," she drawled, "he gets points for being handsome."

"Hmmm…so you like what you see?" JJ teased, making a mental note to keep a watch on those two over the coming days.

"What I see? Sure. What comes out of his mouth, not so much," Anne returned, turning her gaze back to JJ. "He's determined to make you remember, Jen. That, I'm not a big fan of…remember, I was there for some of those nightmares you used to have," Anne reminded her, her tone serious. "You'd shake for hours, JJ. And you'd get so quiet," she recalled softly. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"It's not about what I want, Anne," JJ said with a sigh, nodding to Molly as she looked over at them apologetically and moved to wait on another customer that had just sat down at the counter. "This is about what needs to be done. And if I can help find this monster, I'm willing to risk whatever happens next."

"You always were a selfless bitch," Anne grumbled good-naturedly, reaching over to squeeze JJ's fingers.

"And you always knew how to kill with kindness," JJ ribbed right back as Anne turned to face the door, bracing her elbows against the counter.

"It's a gift," Anne sighed dramatically, smiling widely. "Let's just hope I can put it to good use dealing with your overblown profiler over there," she murmured, jerking her head toward their table.

"He's really not that bad," JJ said, feeling duty bound to defend the man that had once risked quite a lot for her safety. Deciding it was time to share a few details, JJ added, slowly,"He and Dave…they were there, Anne."

"They were where?" Anne asked, distracted as another officer walked through the door and lifted his hand toward her.

"In Kentucky. They were the ones that found me," JJ confided, her voice barely a breath of sound, her eyes suddenly glued to her hands, the topic too heavy for the moment.

"What?!" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned quickly to face her smaller friend.

Nodding, JJ swallowed, drawing her eyes up. "Yeah, they were two of the original agents on the case twenty-five years ago."

"No wonder that agent of yours looks ready to spit nails over you being involved in this thing!" Anne replied, suddenly understanding the situation much more clearly.

"He's not MY anything, Anne," JJ corrected quietly, reaching out to pick up a stray sugar packet, twirling the small package in her fingers.

"That remains to be determined," Anne retorted stubbornly.

"At any rate, both of them are pretty familiar with the circumstances surrounding these murders. And both of them are two of the most highly qualified, highly revered agents in the Bureau. They know their stuff. And I've seen them both in action. They were good then," JJ said with assurance, then added, a serious tone in her voice, "But, they're better now."

"So, you're telling me to give the windbag a chance," Anne sighed, her eyes drawn to the animated face of Jason Gideon.

Smiling, JJ nodded, following Anne's line of sight. "Yes, I am. At least professionally speaking," she added. "But, on a personal note, he hasn't had a particularly easy time of it either."

"Meaning?" Anne asked, raising one eyebrow, her tone demanding information.

"Meaning that a few years ago he retired after a very personal case," JJ said softly, keeping her tone low as a couple she didn't recognize passed behind them. "A woman that he was involved with was targeted in retribution for his pursuing a case. It…changed him. He went off the grid for a while."

"And now he's back out of the blue?" Anne asked curiously, stretching her foot back to prop up against the metal stool.

Shaking her head, JJ murmured, "Not exactly. When these bodies here started turning up and Dad recognized his signature, he called Jason. They'd stayed in contact on and off over the years, evidently. Anyway, he brought it to the Bureau and they reinstated him…at least for the duration of this case."

"So, he came back for you?" Anne asked quietly, trying to piece the puzzle together.

"I don't think for me, specifically. I think it has more to do with the fact that he wants to right a twenty-five year old wrong," JJ said softly, glancing back at the table, her eyes catching the heated conversation occurring, her father obviously right in the middle. And if she wasn't mistaken, Dave was probably right there with him.

Seeing another crowd come through the glass door, Anne sighed. "I don't think Molly's gonna be able to get back with us," she murmured, shooting a look toward the harried waitress. Offering her a slight wave, she pointed back toward the table in the back and smiled. Seeing her slight nod, Anne looked at JJ. "We better go see what's going on back there anyway. It appears that vein is standing up on your dad's head again and we both know what that means."

"An explosion is imminent," JJ laughed, linking arms with her friend. "Let's go save who we can," she said with a grin as she met Dave's dark gaze.


	29. Chapter 28

******_Author's Note: Thank you to all of you reviewing! Please drop me a line and let me know that you're still enjoying the story. I really want to know what ya'll think. Thanks!!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Rising as JJ reached the table, Dave murmured, "Everything okay?" His eyes sketched her face quickly, looking for signs of growing tension. Finding none, he dropped, relieved, back into his seat beside her.

"I'm fine," JJ said softly, smiling softly at his bulldog eyes, pressing a comforting hand to his arm. "Molly just got busy up front. How are things back here?" she asked, her eyes moving between Gideon and her father, the tension at the table a palpable thing.

"Everybody's managed to play nice so far," Dave replied in a low voice, dropping his arm around the wooden rise of her chair, his fingers ghosting against her shoulder.

"You included?" JJ asked, raising an eyebrow at the enigmatic man beside her.

"Me, especially," Dave nodded obediently, his gaze assuring her of his compliance with her rules. "I'm on your dad's side," he added with a tight smile, eyes casting over at the elder Jareau.

"Great," JJ groaned, catching the identical stone expression on her father's worn face.

Clearing his throat, Hotch sat forward in his seat as he looked around the table at his team. "I thought maybe we should solidify our plans for today," he suggested as he glanced down at his watch, recognizing the need to conserve time.

"Before we get into all that, I want a private word with my daughter," Gabe said in a tone that spoke volumes. His request was very obviously an order, issued in command style, and the rest of the table knew it.

"Sir," Hotch began evenly even as his face tightened with impatience.

"Hotch," Dave said with a small shake of his head as he watched JJ's father stiffen against the vinyl leather of the booth. Turning his gaze on the Unit Chief, he said, voice even but firm, "I don't think the man is out of line. She's his kid and he's not gotten to say a private word to her yet."

Frowning slightly as he looked from the former police chief to his blonde daughter, Hotch finally nodded. "Fine…we'll meet back here in fifteen minutes. But we really need to work a plan, guys. And we need to do it soon."

Tugging Hotch's arm as she slid out of the booth, Emily suggested, a calm smile on her lips, "Why don't you and I go outside and make some calls. See if Reid and Morgan have managed to find anything useful."

"I'll go check to make sure that your technical genius hasn't murdered our maintenance man with his own broomstick. It looked like a distinct possibility when I left the station earlier," Anne said with a bright smile at JJ, dropping a friendly hand to her shoulder. "You remember old Timmy, don't you?"

"He's still around?" JJ asked with wide eyes, turning up to look at the grinning woman.

"A holdover from your dad's tenure…and probably one of the only truly decent guys at the station…even if he isn't a cop. I'd hate to see Ms. Garcia do him irreparable harm. He's got kids," Anne laughed, eyebrows rising dramatically

Slapping Jason's arm as slid to the end of the booth, Dave gave the other man a pointed look. "Come on, Gid. Let's see if the coffee in this joint is any better at the counter."

Nodding, Jason slowly rose, feet planted on the ancient linoleum. "Remember what I said, Locke," he said in a low voice, his tone flat.

Grabbing his arm, Dave yanked him from behind the table. "He's old, Jason. Not deaf. Move," Dave ordered his former teammate, giving a slight nod of understanding to Locke. Looking over his shoulder, he promised JJ, his eyes darkening, "We're in shouting distance."

Suppressing a smile as JJ watched Dave and Jason trade insults and barbs all the way to the front of the restaurant, JJ finally forced her eyes to her father. And she wasn't the least surprised to find his disapproving gaze leveled directly at her.

"Okay, Sprite, it's just you and your old man now. Now, tell daddy…just what exactly in the hell you think you're doing here," Locke Jareau ordered his daughter in a tone she'd heard thousands of times before.

The memories of that deep authoritative voice filled her mind, recalling her childhood, filled with scary visits to doctors and specialists, his smiling face in the front row of her first piano recital. Then there were her teen years, fender benders and missed curfews, prom corsages and soccer uniforms. And those years she would call home from college, worried about an exam, a boyfriend, indecision about her future. Every time, no matter what, her father had been the same, comforting and powerful, loving to her and her mother, decisive but cautious about those he loved.

"I'm doing exactly what you'd do, Daddy. I'm here to find the man that stole Lacy from us," JJ answered with quiet honesty, sliding into the booth next to her father, leaning her shoulder against his.

"What did I always tell you when you were growing up, Jennifer?" Locke Jareau asked plainly, leveling his daughter with a knowing look. "What did I always tell you about your sister."

Swallowing, JJ looked away, unable to meet his piercing eyes. "That I couldn't change the past," she whispered, swallowing tightly against the pain building suddenly in her chest. "Except…"

"Uh uh…what else did I say, Sprite?" Locke pressed, reaching down to enfold his little girl's chilled hand in his, his calloused fingers wrapping around hers.

"That I had to put my shoulder to the wall and keep pushing forward," JJ mumbled, staring at the table, unwilling to meet her father's gaze.

"You're going the wrong direction then, honey," Locke replied, his voice pitched low in the busy diner, barely loud enough for her ears only. "This ain't moving forward. You're goin' backards."

"I've got to, Daddy," JJ said, quietly insistent, her eyes snapping toward his for a bare moment. "Somewhere, somehow, I know more than I think I do. Last night proved it."

"Last night?" Locke prodded, keeping the details he was already aware of to himself. This he wanted to hear from his daughter's lips. Her words were the only ones left that really mattered to him anyway, and he wanted to gauge her response for himself, not relying on those so-called professionals who had almost destroyed her before.

"I remembered something, Daddy," JJ said softly, reassured by the gentle pressure of her father's hand covering hers. For the first time in many, many years, in her adult life, she needed, more than anything, to have her father's approval. Maybe telling him the truth, telling him her horrid memory, would convince him that what she was doing really was necessary. "I remembered him having all of us girls underground. I remembered his arm coming through a trap door of some kind, giving us those shots."

"Did you see a face, JJ?" Locke asked quietly, biting back his own pain at the thoughts of the horrors his daughters had endured.

"Not yet," JJ admitted, somewhat sadly, somewhat annoyed with her own memories. "But it's something. It's more than I've gotten any time before. And I know that if I can remember that small detail, there's got to be others, too."

"At what cost, Sprite?" Locke worried aloud, his fingers tightening against hers. "Bringin' all this pain back…is it worth it? Those fancy profilers you work with can do this without putting you through hell."

"But they might be able to do it faster with my help," JJ countered, her tone respectful but determined.. "And if I can help save just one person from Lacy's fate, shouldn't I do that?" JJ asked, silently begging her father to understand, her fingers turning to lace with his, squeezing.

Frowning, Locke shook his head. Although dulled slightly by time, his heart still clenched every time let his mind recall those dark days, days when his daughters were missing, when his wife almost collapsed from sheer agony, when he shot a man he thought had murdered his youngest and almost taken his oldest. "Jennifer, you don't owe anybody anything. You paid a steep price twenty-five years ago…we all did. You've paid enough for a crime you never committed."

"I should have protected her. It should have been me," JJ whispered, her voice small as she seemed to fold in on herself, tucking her head down to her chest as she tried to pull her hand away from his, tried to insulate herself.

"Stop it!" Locke ordered, his voice harsh as JJ's eyes snapped back to his, his fingers unwilling to let go of her trembling hand. "He took you, too. There but for the grace of God, you managed to live, JJ. I won't sit here and listen to you apologize for surviving!"

"But-," JJ whispered, shaking her long blonde hair, trying to find the words to explain to her father.

"But nothing," Locke said with a tone of finality. "You lived, Jennifer. Your sister didn't. But that wasn't the fault of either of you. If you want to help find this killer, fine. I'll support you. But you make sure that you're doing it for the RIGHT reasons, Little Girl!"

"What are the right reasons, Daddy?" JJ asked, tears forming in her eyes, swiping angrily at her damp cheeks..

"Only you can answer that, Honey. All I know is that doing it cause you feel guilty for having survived the Devil's own playground ain't it," Locke sighed, hating the sight of his daughter's tears, hating the doubt and fear that still flowed through her. "That's something to hold your chin up about. Not hang your head in shame."

Licking her lips as she forced her eyes to ones identical to her own, JJ straightened in her seat, her shoulders squaring as they touched his again. "Maybe you're right, Daddy. But regardless of what my motivations are, this HAS to be done…and I'd like to know that you're on my side."

"When have I ever NOT been on your side, Sprite?" Locke asked, leaning back against the cracked vinyl as he nudged her shoulder with his. "I've always stood behind you and that ain't gonna change. But, I need you to understand this…I'm proud of you for surviving, JJ. Don't let this monster take another child from me. Don't you lose yourself to this bastard."

"I brought a whole legion of people with me to make sure that doesn't happen, Daddy," JJ said with a soft smile, her eyes automatically casting toward the counter, finding the dark head she had come to recognize immediately.

Nodding once, Locke offered a wink, squeezing her hand for the last time as she pulled up, moving back to the wooden chair. "Yeah, I noticed your guard dog. Glad to see that young Agent Rossi has finally grown up."

"I'm so telling him you said that," JJ laughed as she saw Jason and Dave slowly making their way back to the table.


	30. Chapter 29

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

"Sorry," Dave muttered as he resumed his seat beside JJ, dropping his hand against her shoulder, "But Hotch is getting that twitch in his eye again. Not sure how long Emily's gonna manage to keep him from releasing the vein in his forehead."

"It's okay," JJ said, forcing a smile into her voice as she scooted her chair. "I think Daddy and I understand each other," she added with a quick look toward her dad. "Don't we?" she asked hesitantly, watching her father's eyes closely.

"Seems like your mind's already made up," Locke shrugged. "Just be careful with her, Boys. I haven't forgotten how to fire a gun, retired or not," he warned, looking between Gideon and Rossi. "Especially you," Locke growled, staring at Jason.

"I'll travel lightly, Locke," Gideon nodded, measuring his words.

"See that you do," Locke murmured as Hotch and Emily rejoined the table.

"Are we ready to proceed?" Aaron asked, watching as Emily and Anne settled back into their seats.

"I guess so," Locke replied, looking up at the tall agent standing at the head of the table. "So, you're the one in charge of this operation, huh? Bureau keeps getting younger and younger, doesn't it?"

"Daddy," JJ warned softly, reaching over to touch her father's hand. "Hotch is one of the best out there. Be nice."

"This IS me being nice, Sprite," Locke quipped, flashing a rare smile at his daughter. "I didn't say he looked wet behind the ears, did I?"

"We trained Hotch, Locke," Gideon sighed, cocking an eyebrow. "He's one of the best."

Looking at the expressionless man standing there, Locke rolled his eyes. "You'll understand if that little fact doesn't impress me much, son."

"Daddy!" JJ gasped, dropping her head into her hands. Embarrassment at her father's hands wasn't a new experience for her. His typical bluntness hadn't changed over the years. If anything, he'd gotten even more forward in his thoughts. But she'd still hoped that he'd exercise at least a little tact. She should have known better.

"Still calling them the way you see them, huh, Mr. Jareau," Anne laughed lightly, her grin wide as she scooted back against the vinyl bench.

"Yes, by all means, tell us how you really feel, sir," Emily grinned, peering toward Locke Jareau as Hotch shifted uncomfortably.

"If we can redirect ourselves back to the matters at hand," Hotch murmured flatly, his deep voice drawing their eyes back to him.

Taking mercy on her boss before her father could open his mouth again, JJ asked, quickly, "Did you talk to Spence and Morgan, Hotch? Have they found anything useful?"

"I just got off the phone with Morgan," Hotch nodded, appreciating the return to the mechanics of the case. "The scene has been somewhat compromised," he began with an uncomfortable look at Anne. Rule one that he had been taught upon coming into the unit was to never piss of the locals. Condemning their evidence gathering techniques would not gain their cooperation in finding this unsub. Treading carefully, he continued, "There were some issues with the equipment the county had, I believe."

"Yeah," Anne snorted, rolling her eyes as she met the head agent's eyes, "Like nobody around here bothered to take the time to learn how to work it. I saw that scene, sir. It'd been trampled."

Lips quirking as he bit back a smile, Hotch looked at the young officer sitting at the table. "That might be one interpretation of the scene."

Harrumphing from his side of the table, Locke said deeply, frowning up at his daughter's boss, "Son, the first thing you need to know about this area is we don't bother taking the time to dress up the facts in fancy language. We just say it like it is. Second is, things ain't quite the same around here as when I was runnin' things."

"You can say that again," Anne muttered, nodding in agreement. "The current sheriff got his job because the Mayor owed him a favor. I'm pretty sure he won his job in a poker game gone horribly wrong."

Chuckling, Locke tapped his finger on the table as he said, knowingly, "Close enough, Annie girl. Actually, the Sheriff's wife is the Mayor's sister."

"Oh Christ," Dave groaned, rubbing his hand against his forehead, glancing around the small table. "I've forgotten what the backwoods was like."

"Good news is that Morgan and Reid did find some tire tracks not belonging to any vehicle initially on the scene. Bad news is they belong to an F150," Hotch added, glancing around the table.

"Oh, so we've got at least three quarters of the county as suspects," Anne grunted.

"Nothing else?" JJ asked, hoping for at least one sentient lead, something that they could use to at least put a minor crack in the case.

"Nothing," Hotch said with a shake of his dark head. "I checked in with Garcia; she's currently searching the databases for the identities of our three most recent victims. It appears that only one of them has had their identity verified."

Nodding, Anne chewed her lower lip. "Talia Brenner. She went missing from up Hickman way about a month ago. As far as I know, that's as far as Dr. Beaumont has gotten on the autopsies. We offered to send the other two up to the crime labs in Pittsburgh, but he wouldn't hear of it. I think he took it more than a little personal that we even suggested it."

"Dr. Beaumont? Is that the medical examiner here in your town?" Emily asked with a look toward the other woman.

"I've never heard of him," JJ murmured with a confused look at her father.

"If you wanna call him that," Locke grunted to Emily. "Ya'll have got to understand, up til now, this has been a peaceful little place. We get domestic calls…we've had some drug problems. But hell, I was Chief of Police for twenty years and I think we had three actual murders in that time. And two of 'em were crimes of passion. We don't get much call for needing an ME. At best, Beaumont's a glorified coroner."

"In other words, he doesn't have a background in murder and mayhem committed by the psychotic mind," Gideon grumbled. Leaning back in the booth, he ran a hand against the side of his face as he muttered, "Great."

Locke shrugged, reaching for his coffee cup as he explained, "Best I can recall, he's a transplant from Ohio way. Served in the military and when he got out he went into family medicine. Took Joe Sparks practice over when he retired bout three years ago. He's pretty closed mouthed…never has said too much. But people seem to like him as a doctor. His parking lot's always full up."

"Of course that could have something to do with the fact that he's the only doctor within forty-five miles," Anne shrugged, her face scrunching slightly as she tried to hold her personal feelings intact. "Personally, I think he's an arrogant know-it-all."

"Aren't all physicians to some extent?" JJ asked, looking at her old friend as she shifted in her seat, feeling Dave's hand drop comfortingly against her neck for a moment.

"Yeah, that's true. He just seems to have a bigger God complex than others that I've run into," Anne muttered. "At any rate, you'll have a hard time convincing him to let anybody else touch those bodies."

"He won't get a choice," Hotch stated evenly, his tone brooking no disobedience. "This is a federal investigation. I'm prepared to pull rank if I have to. Hopefully, it won't come to that though. And that leads me to my next question. Locke, you think you could help clear the way…help ease the citizens of Sunshine into accepting our presence…starting with Dr. Beaumont?"

"I can try," Locke shrugged, drawing a deep sip from his ceramic cup. "Like I said though…I don't know him too awfully well."

"Anything you can do, Mr. Jareau, would help us," Emily offered, taking a sip of her coffee, reaching for a packet of Splenda.

Clearing his throat as he reached for his coffee mug, draining the cup in one gulp, Hotch said gruffly, "Right now, I think it would serve our purposes best if we pushed forward with the investigation." Glancing over at the elder Jareau, he asked, evenly, "Will you be joining our case, sir? We could use your help with the medical examiner if you're available."

"Like I told my Jenny, I ain't leaving her, not while she's here," Locke answered, his eyes meeting Hotch's. "If she's off to see Doc, then I'm on her six."

"Then I guess that's all we need to know, Hotch," Rossi said, leveling his eyes as he silently communicated with his former protégée. "The sooner we get this show on the road, the faster we'll be able to get some answers."

"And maybe stop this from happening again," JJ said softly, letting herself lean slightly against Rossi's strong shoulder as she met her father's eyes. "I know that's what we both want, right, Daddy?"

"Sprite," Locke said heavily, draining his coffee mug and dropping it with a clatter, "As long as I know you're safe at the end of the day, then I don't give a damn about anyone else. But you do, so as your feller says, let's get this show on the road."


	31. Chapter 30

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty**

Planting her feet solidly on the scarred linoleum, JJ tried to remember every trick she had ever learned about mind over matter. But her eyes wouldn't let her move from the present, from the three bodies currently laid out, crudely, in front of her. Breathing shallowly, she forced air into her lungs, then exhaled sharply, repeating, knowing that she had to maintain a semblance of control. Especially in front of her father. And Dave.

But as much as she thought she was fooling those two men, they both knew better. Dropping his hand to her back to forcefully turn her around, Rossi whispered in her ear, "I'm getting you out of here, JJ."

Shaking her head, blonde hair swinging, she answered, hoarsely, "I'm fine, Dave. Just need to get my bearings."

"What you need is to be far away from here, Sprite," Locke said darkly, stomping toward her as he looked at Rossi, growling, "I told you this would happen. My little girl…."

"Is fine, Daddy," JJ said firmly, with a strength she didn't exactly feel. Pulling herself up to her full height, which was still inches shorter than either man, she said, looking around the room, "Where is Dr. Beaumont? I thought he was going to meet us here."

"Nurse said he'd be right back. Got called away to look at a bee sting," Locke supplied, narrowing his eyes as he looked his daughter over. "Jenny, why don't you let me and Rossi ….."

But before he could answer, the old wooden door swung open, and a man close to Rossi's age and size slid through, his face scrunched in a frown. Stopping suddenly as he saw the three visitors, he said, eyes glancing over to the bodies then back, "How did you get back here? No one's supposed to disturb the…."

"Doc Beaumont, meet my daughter Jennifer and Dave Rossi. They're FBI. The sheriff told you to expect them," Locke said, cocking an eyebrow as he leaned back against a battered wooden desk.

"Well, I'd like to say it was a pleasure, but as you can see," the doctor replied tightly, gesturing around his makeshift morgue, "I'm a bit busy right now. If you'll all excuse me."

"Actually, I don't think we'll be doing that anytime soon, Doctor," Gideon murmured, staring down at Talia Brenner's body. "What have you found so far, Doctor?"

"Well, since I've barely been given time to begin, not much," Dr. Beaumont retorted angrily. "And since I'm wasting my time on a conversation with all of you, I'd say you'll all be waiting quite a while longer." Looking around the room, he bit out, "Don't you people have any semblance of protocol. Does the FBI not teach you how to dial a phone?"

Exchanging a look with Dave, Gideon slowly nodded as his eyes continued to examine the body in front of him. "Then I'm sure you won't be averse to some credible assistance as soon as we can possibly arrange it."

"Look, I've already made it clear to that little deputy woman that was in here, I don't need any help. What I need is to be left to my work," Dr. Beaumont replied sharply. "As soon as I have answers, so will you."

"Due respect, Doc," Locke drawled, "but, in case you missed it, these folks are sorta workin' on a limited timetable. This guy, whoever he is, ain't gonna stop. There'll be more bodies. Or haven't you gathered as much from the three you already have in front of you."

"It's not a debatable issue, Doctor," Dave's deep voice said, joining the others. "The Bureau has jurisdiction in this case. Although I'm sure the ME we bring in would welcome your insight," he continued, moving forward to peer at the body over Jason's shoulder. Narrowing his eyes, he noted the familiar cuts crisscrossing the young woman's chest. Supressing a shudder of his own, he realized there was also something else familiar. Something about those stitches. "You've closed her up," Dave said, glancing over his shoulder at the physician.

"I have," the doctor growled. "I've finished my internal examination of the body. I simply haven't transcribed my notes as yet. Which you might have had by now if I hadn't been interrupted."

"Sir," JJ murmured, stepping toward the older man. "I'm sure we all want the same thing."

Eyeing JJ coldly, Dr. Beaumont frowned. "I sincerely doubt that Agent Jareau. Currently, I want you all out of this room so that I may continue to do the job I was ELECTED to do."

"Due respect, Doc, but it ain't much of an election when you're the only one runnin', is it?" Locke asked with deceptive casualness.

"Perhaps you should have pursued a medical degree and challenged me for the post then, Mr. Jareau," Dr. Beaumont replied snidely.

"Nah," Locked smiled grimly. "I always preferred catching the men that put the victims in here. Which incidentally was a rare occurrence up until now. But on that rare occasion when I did have a victim end up down here," Locke said, looking around the refrigerated room, "you predecessor, Dr. Monty was always real cooperative."

Shivering slightly in the cold room, JJ wasn't sure if it was the temperature or the animosity radiating from Dr. Beaumont that chilled her. "Dr. Beaumont, we're on the same side. This is your community, too. I'm sure you want answers just as much as the rest of us do," JJ stated, offering a serene smile despite the fact that something in the other man's eyes warned her that his cooperation might be dubious at best.

"And I'm sure that YOU will agree that adequate time is necessary to provide your team with the information that they so vitally want," he replied somewhat briskly. "Until such time as that happens, anything I offer would be mere supposition, my least favorite form of input."

"Perhaps someone with a bit more experience in autopsies of this sort would be -," Dave began, moving back to JJ's side.

"I assure you, Agent, I am MORE than qualified for my job," Dr Beaumont interrupted, narrowing his eyes. "Bringing in an outsider at this point would only impede my progress. As a veteran of the US Army and a general practitioner since retiring, I assure you that I've seen all manner of injuries, both on the battlefield and the civilian world."

Shrugging off his coat, Dave dropped it around JJ's shoulders as he turned back to face the physician. "Be that as it may, gaining additional opinions from qualified experts within the medical community is a decision that falls to us. Not you."

Interrupted from his reply by a cursory knock on the door, a grey haired nurse poked her head into the room. "Dr. Beaumont, I'm afraid we have an emergency. Callie Jacobs is here and she's in the middle of an asthma attack."

"I'll be right there," Dr. Beaumont growled tersely, still glaring at Rossi. Waiting until the door closed again, he spat, "Well, since you're determined to undermine my authority, I believe I'll go do a job that not even you are qualified to do. Excuse me."

Waiting until the doctor had left the room, the slamming door still echoing against the walls, Gideon and Rossi exchanged a look.

"Well, that was fun," Locke drawled, leaning against one of the empty steel tables. "Anybody else get the feeling that our current coroner isn't exactly impartial?"


	32. Chapter 31

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

"That's the understatement of the year," Rossi growled, his flashing eyes drawn back to the door the doctor had just exited. "How in hell did a man like that end up here?"

"He's not local, is he, Daddy?" JJ asked with a shake of her blonde head, pulling Dave's coat tighter around her as she shivered again, the cool air of the surgical suite seeping through the heavy fabric. "I don't recall ever hearing his name when I was growing up."

Shrugging, Locke answered slowly as he leaned against the edge of the desk, "Think he's from down South somewhere. No accent though, and apparently moved around in the military. Don't know much more."

"Well, it's obvious he's going to cause us more harm than good," Gideon said pragmatically, flipping through the doctor's handwritten notes from a small notepad, pursing his lips as he tried to decipher the scribbles. "And if he continues at this snail's pace, any evidence we hope to recover will have been degraded or compromised."

"Which will either send us on a wild goose chase or be no good whatsoever," Rossi finished, his jaw clenching tightly as he watched JJ's eyes cloud at that thought.

"But after that reaction, I don't think we can just plop an FBI medical examiner in right now, can we?" JJ asked, sighing as she realized how difficult this case was becoming, her heart sinking slightly. Any thoughts of a quick resolution had flown out the proverbial window, leaving only confusion and niggling fears. "He's definitely not going to work and play well with anybody with the initials FBI near their name, unfortunately."

"Don't give a damn about his feelings right now, Jen," Rossi said gruffly, stuffing a hand into his jeans' pocket. "All that matters is that we preserve what we can. That means we get the right person in here ASAP."

Looking around the room, taking in the expressions on the faces of his daughter and her coworkers, Locke said, thoughtfully, "Maybe we need to bring in someone not FBI. Someone who has extensive experience in this area, but someone that the doctor might not see as a threat to his domain."

Narrowing his eyes at the older man, Gideon said evenly, "Sounds like you have someone in mind, Locke. Anybody we know?"

"Probably not," Locke shrugged, his eyes traveling to his daughter's pale face, his jaw clenching as he once again doubted the sensibility of involving her in this situation. "But you know who I'm talkin' about, don't you, Sprite?" he asked trying to distract her from their surroundings.

Wracking her mind for what her father might be thinking, JJ finally shook her head as she eased another step away from the body displayed on the table. "Not sure I'm following you, Daddy."

"Jackson Gibbs has gotta boy that just might be of help to us, remember?" Locke prompted easily.

"Leroy?" JJ breathed with widened eyes, a smile starting to play on her lips. "I'd forgotten about him."

"Wait!" Dave ordered sharply, looking from father to daughter as his mind placed that specific name. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

Bobbing her head, blonde pony tail brushing against her neck, JJ explained, "You met his father at the diner. Mr. Gibbs. His son is an agent at-…"

"NCIS," Dave supplied, his tone low.

"You know him?" JJ asked in confusion, turning to face the man that had become her personal protector. "How?"

"Let's just say he and Rossi have a mutually shared past," Gideon chuckled, his eyes still cataloguing the body in front of him.

"What? Did you boys serve in the Marines together?" Locke asked suspiciously, wondering if he had missed something about this man's past that might become important in the future.

"Among other things," Gideon muttered, lifting the half completed file on Talia Brennan and scanning it quickly.

"What other -…" JJ began to question, her bright blue eyes just as inquisitive as her words.

"We served some particularly grueling time battling the same war," Rossi mumbled, avoiding her gaze. Looking at Locke, Dave asked, "Does he still work with that same crackpot group?"

Nodding slowly, Locke grinned. "He does…and if you ask me, this'd be right up Ducky's alley," he said, nodding toward the body on the table.

Glancing toward Gideon, noticing his intent perusal of the victim, Dave asked, "Whatcha think?"

"Donald Mallard is one of the best in his field," Gideon nodded. "We'd need to run it by Hotch, but I can't see where he'd have a problem with it."

"How are you gonna find an NCIS connection to this case to justify their presence?" JJ asked, biting her lower lip as she thought the problem through. "Leon Vance is a stickler for the rules. He's not just gonna send a team of Naval Criminal Investigation agents on a wild goose chase."

"The trident," Dave replied, nodding toward the cadaver on the table. "Our unsubs brand is the emblem used by Navy Seals. It's a thin connection, but it's there. Gibbs will get around Vance….that is, if he agrees to come."

"Oh, he'll agree. If I know Jackson, he'll make an offer that Gibbs can't refuse," Locke grinned, cocking his graying head. "Not to mention that he always was sweet on Jenny," Locke added, winking at his daughter before gazing benignly at a flushed David Rossi.

"Pardon?" Dave asked gruffly, tensing. The last thing he needed was Leroy Jethro Gibbs deciding that this woman was fair game.

Seeing the narrowing of Dave's eyes on her father, JJ quickly muttered, "Yeah, dad, he loved me like a thorn in his ass."

"Brotherly affection at its best, honey," Locke shrugged, enjoying yanking the older profiler's chain for a moment. "Jenny always served as Jethro's lookout when he was courtin' his first wife here in Sunshine."

"Shannon," Dave said, smiling faintly as he relaxed slightly. "I met her once. Sweet lady…much too good for Gibbs."

"Please never say that to him," JJ whispered, flashing alarmed eyes at him, her heart tightening as she thought of the woman who had always treated her like a younger sister.

"Too late," Dave chuckled, shaking his head. "I said it in front of her to him…Shannon got a kick out of it."

Locke added, helpfully, "You'll also have the added benefit of having another person fairly familiar with the case. Jethro knows as much as his dad…which is pretty much everything."

Nodding, Dave flashed JJ a concerned look as she shivered again. "Gideon, I also want Garcia to run a full background check on Beaumont. Something smelled funny."

"Agreed," Gideon nodded, glancing up at Dave as he made some notes on his legal pad. "Dave, come here a sec."

Walking across the room to stand beside Gideon, Dave stared down at the remains of Talia Brennan. "What are you seeing, Gid?"

"The stitches that Beaumont uses to sew up his incisions," he murmured, nodding toward the body. "Look familiar to you? Remember the bodies from the cabin…those stitches were unique."

"They're the same," Dave muttered, clenching his hands in his pockets.

"You think…" Gideon trailed off, meeting Dave's burning stare.

"Tell Garcia to get on that background check. Now," Dave ordered, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as his eyes fell back to the body.

"I'll go see her now. And I'll let Hotch know about Gibbs," Gideon nodded. "Maybe you ought to take JJ back to her room for a bit. She's looking a little pale," Gideon said, staring over Dave's shoulder. "I'm going to want to start regressing her tonight, if possible, Rossi. She'll need to have some energy in reserve."

"I'm gonna step over to the hardware store and talk to Jack in person…maybe go ahead and put that phone call into Jethro. Why don't you bring Jenny by the stables this afternoon. Seein' her horses always relaxed her. Might be a good thing to do before Gideon has a go at my girl," Locke suggested.

Glancing at his watch, Dave nodded. "Around three, okay?" he asked easily.

"Sounds fine. Maybe we'll all have a plan by then," Locke sighed, looking over his shoulder at JJ as she ended a phone call.

"I sure the hell hope so," Dave muttered. "The sooner we finish this, the better for all of us."


	33. Chapter 32

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Pushing open the door to JJ's room, Dave resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he heard her soft voice coming from behind him once more. For the past ten minutes, from the moment they had left the so-called morgue until he had finally pulled up in front of the hotel, she had asserted her independence, loudly and proudly. But with every word she had spoken, he had heard the undercurrent of fatigue coloring her voice. And he'd be damned if he was going to let her push herself beyond her limits, beyond what was safe. Beyond what he thought she could handle.

"Dave, this is ridiculous. I'm not sick. I'm not injured. And there are a hell of a lot more important things we could both be doing right now. I'm well past the age of requiring a nap to face the afternoon," JJ grumbled irritably, stomping behind him as she pushed her hand, hard, against his back.

"Bitch all you want, JJ. You're still going to rest for a couple of hours if I have to cuff you to the bed," Dave replied evenly, moving aside to allow her to precede him into the small room.

"Tell me, Dave, honestly…do you feel the overwhelming need for an afternoon siesta because I don't!" JJ argued, throwing her purse into the wingback chair beside the bed. Kicking off her shoes, she eyed the bed, resolutely refusing to climb back into it. Even though her last memories of that bed involved being held securely by this man. This infuriating man, she reminded herself firmly, settling her resolve once again.

"No," Dave replied calmly, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him, throwing the security lock and checking the doorknob. Turning to face her, his face implacable, he added, "But I'm also not going to be the person in this room trying to remember an emotional hell at some point in the near future. You need your strength to do that successfully."

"I think I should be the better judge for what I'm strong enough for," JJ muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she tried to control a chill that suddenly slid down her spine. As much as she wanted to remember, wanted to help, she couldn't help dreading the moment. That part of her life was in her past, buried deeply. Or so she thought.

Closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, Dave took a deep breath and dropped his hand away to stare across the room into her clear eyes. "JJ, if you were dealing with some anonymous victim and Gideon or I had recommended she do this…rest and gather her strength for what was coming…what would you do? Would you tell her to ignore our advice and go right on about her life?"

"Of course not. I'd never overstep my authority that way," JJ snapped, staring up into those deep dark eyes of his. As much as she wanted to wring his neck right now, she also knew that something about him made her feel more protected, safer.

"Then why can't you trust us now?" Dave asked softly, clenching his hand in his pocket as he noted the dark shadows forming underneath her eyes. "It's a couple of hours, JJ. That's all."

Compressing her lips into a tight line as she stared back at him, JJ reminded herself that they were trying to help her. Protect her. But she, too, was an agent. A damn qualified one at that. And she couldn't imagine if the situations were reversed that any member of their team would willingly step back. Especially if it was personal. And this WAS personal for her. Way, way personal. "I don't appreciate being treated like a child," JJ bit out, forcing her tone to remain civil.

"You aren't being treated like a child, JJ. If you were a child, your father could order you away from this investigation like he would very much like to now. Like he did when you were six years old. If you were a child, I could scold you into listening to me." Shaking his head, Dave added, softly, "No, JJ, nobody is treating you like anything other than the surviving victim and witness that you are. One that's going to need to be well rested if she's gonna be any help at all."

"I could be helping with the local authorities right now, Rossi. Coordinating with the LEOs, assuring them that we're here to assist them. That we're the allies, not the enemies. And they'd believe me, Dave! Because they KNOW me. But instead, I've been put in timeout," JJ said, sweeping her arm angrily around the hotel room as she stomped toward the window, her stocking-covered feet sinking into the pile carpet.

"I'm sorry that you see it that way, Jen. But I believe Hotch warned you what capacity you'd fill in this case. Now, if you don't like it, I'd be happy to escort you back to D.C.," Dave offered genially, watching as her shoulders stiffened even more. As much as he disliked angering her, he couldn't help but hope that she might actually take him up on his offer. At this point, he would move heaven and earth to remove her from this entire warped scenario.

"Bite me, Dave," JJ snapped over her shoulder, dropping down onto the edge of the bed as she curled her toes slightly, flexing her ankles. "I'm not going anywhere." Reaching toward the small coffeepot on the nightstand, she quickly felt her hands stilled by his.

"Nuh uh, Jen. Not a good idea. Caffeine isn't what I'd say is exactly conducive to relaxing and resting, Babe."

"Dave," JJ ground out, smacking at his heavy hands, "you're taking a huge risk by getting between me and the coffee. Move," she ordered sternly, glaring up at him.

"I'll take my chances," Dave said, matching her tone. "You don't need to put anything in your system right now that's going to rev it up. I can get you some hot tea, if you like," he added calmly, easing her clenched hands away from the pot.

"I don't want tea, David. I want coffee. And if you want me relaxed, you're gonna have to do a hell of a lot better than simply removing the coffee from my life," JJ replied testily, frowning, pulling away as she paced in the small open area.

"That's why we're all here, Jen. That's why YOU'RE HERE, for that matter. But you're going to need to be at the top of your game for it to make any difference to the case," Dave said patiently.

Narrowing her eyes at Dave as he insisted on prattling on, JJ pursed her lips.

"Now what?" Dave sighed, her gaze obviously indicating that she was more than a little dissatisfied with something. He'd seen that look directed at him by no less than three ex-wives. He was well versed in all the nuances of an enraged woman's face.

"That look," JJ bit out.

"What look?" Dave asked innocently. "There is NO look."

"Yes, there is. That slightly superior, 'I know everything' look," JJ retorted, her jaw clenching even tighter.

"If there is any look at all, JJ, it's one of concern and determination," Dave replied easily. "I only want what's best for you."

"No, you want what YOU think is best for me," JJ snapped, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Okay, now you're just splitting hairs, Babe," Dave said in exasperation, running his hand over his face.

Sighing deeply, JJ stared up at him, wondering which one of them had suddenly lost their mind. But she couldn't ignore the way her body suddenly seemed to relax now that she was actually on the bed. And she was smart enough to realize that she needed all of the mental fortitude she could garner in order to survive the coming hours and days. Leaning back against the thick pillows against the headboard, JJ frowned. "I guess you're right."

Eyes widening in surprise, Dave cocked his head. "Would you mind putting out a personal statement to that effect? Because nobody is gonna believe me when I tell them that you said that."

"Very funny," JJ grumbled, clasping her hands over her waist. Finally turning her head to stare at him uncertainly, she asked, her voice soft, "Do you really think Gibbs and his team will be able to help? Do you even think Director Vance will consider the request?"

"Gibbs has ways around Vance," Dave shrugged, slipping off his sports coat and dropping it on the chair. "And as for the other, I don't think it could hurt. Jethro Gibbs always brings a unique perspective to a case. Maybe he'll see something we don't."

"You've worked together before?" JJ asked, recognizing that his tone sounded familiar with the legend that was Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"A few of our cases overlapped over the years," Dave murmured evasively.

"Which ones?" JJ asked, suddenly interested in exactly how those two men were acquainted. "When was the last time you saw him, Dave?"


	34. Chapter 33

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

"I'll make you a deal, Jen," Dave bargained, deciding quickly that he could work his way out of this and help her in the process. "I'll tell you anything you wanna know, IF you agree to close your eyes for an hour." Seeing her open her mouth to object, Dave held up a hand, forestalling her certain comments. "It's juicy, JJ. Don't women love gossip? And you'll have the benefit of knowing the real story."

Closing her mouth quickly, JJ debated her options as she measured his expression. She could let him get his way and get what was sure to be a good deal of dirt. After all, if David Rossi said something was juicy, it was sure to be scandalous. Or she could hold on to her principles and righteous anger, and spend the next hour fighting with this infuriating man. "Fine," she muttered, bouncing a heel against the worn bedspread. "Spill it."

"Scoot," Dave said, tapping her thigh lightly as he stretched out on the bed beside her. Crossing his ankles, then his arms across his chest as he leaned against her headboard, he sighed, wondering exactly where to start this little bedtime story. "Jethro and I go back quite a few years to my days in the Marines. That's where we met."

"It's so hard to imagine YOU in uniform," JJ snorted, the mental image of a young Rossi decked out in Marine BDUs enough to pull a smile to her lips. "You just seem so un-military like. Imagining you taking orders without asking questions," she murmured with a chuckle, remembering the fallout the last time a local sheriff had foolishly attempted to issue an order to their team. "I just can't see it."

Nodding once, he agreed, leaning his head back against the fake headboard. "Hence my three year stint. As soon as I could get out, I did. Taking arbitrary orders from a shouting guy in a funny looking hat was never my idea of a good time. But, Gibbs…he took to it."

"So is that the extent of your shared history? A stint in the Marine Corp and a few overlapping cases over the years?" JJ asked quizzically, turning on her side to stare into his surprisingly uncomfortable face. Accustomed to his assured, cocky demeanor, she was actually enjoying this moment of insight into David Rossi's past.

"Not exactly," Dave drawled, barely suppressing a smirk as he cocked an eyebrow, looking down into her beautiful but still pale face. "We shared a little more than that."

"Okay, Dave," JJ grumbled, reaching out to pinch his arm, catching just the right amount of skin between her fingers. "I agreed to your nefarious scheme to get me to sleep. Therefore, I want the full bedtime story. What else could you two have possibly shared? Good God, don't tell me you two experimented with more than just the military, if you know what I mean." She added, wriggling her brows as she grinned widely, enjoying the little jab.

Grimacing, Dave glared at her, barely controlling the shudder that slid through him. "That's disgusting. And while I can't speak for Gibbs, I have always been very much heterosexual, you holy terror!" Dave said gruffly, tickling her side.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" JJ giggled, batting at his hand as he found the exact spot that would send her into uncontrollable laughter. "I take it back!"

"You'd better," Dave growled, settling back against the pillows again, relieved to have heard genuine laughter from her. Nailing her with a mock-glare, he said, "I'd hate to have to make it a point to prove my manliness."

"Oh, Dave," JJ drawled, patting his chest consolingly, "Haven't you already done that with half the female population on the Eastern Seaboard?"

"Funny girl," Dave muttered, relieved to hear the teasing note in her voice. "Do you want the scoop or not?"

"Scoop, please," JJ said politely, settling beside him again as her arm brushed his.

Smiling, Dave nodded. "Well, since you said please, I guess I can tell you. Gibbs and I share ex-wife number one. She was my first and his second."

"You let your friend marry the only woman that ever managed to get the jump on you and suck you dry," JJ gasped, remembering the details she'd read in his personnel jacket. And if those details were true, then the first ex-Mrs. Rossi could only best be described as the love child of Leona Helmsley and Bernie Madoff, her desire for fortune triumphed only by her need for adoration and power.

"Thank you for putting it so eloquently, Jen," Dave grumbled, pinching her side again.

"Hey," JJ shrugged, arching away from his questing fingers. "At least you hadn't made it big yet. It could have been a lot worse," JJ sympathized, shifting a bit closer to him as the coolness of the room seemed to settle around her.

"It was bad enough," Dave sighed, recalling those hellacious divorce proceedings with less than fond memories. "Unfortunately, Jethro refused to heed my warning." A wide smile spread across Dave's face as he continued, almost cheerfully, "The last time I saw Gibbs was outside a courtroom in Langley, Virginia. I felt the overwhelming need to say, 'I told you so'. I got a black eye for my smug statement…but sooo worth it."

"You're horrible," JJ said with a roll of her sky blue eyes, swatting at his strong arm. "Please tell me that you two are at least still friends. One more antagonistic male butting heads on the team might just send me over the edge," she remarked, bringing up a subject she hadn't yet broached.

"I don't know what you're referring to, JJ," Dave stated innocently, only to be rewarded with a firm, solid kick to his shin.

"Oh, please," JJ huffed as Dave threw a heavy leg over hers to save himself another well-placed kick to his leg. "This barely veiled animosity that you and Gideon seem to share for each other is as obvious as the nose on my face, David."

"I thought we'd been playing very nicely together," Dave said easily, waving a hand in the air. "I haven't killed him yet, have I?"

"No. But he hasn't actually tried to do his primary job with me yet," JJ retorted, settling against the mattress, the feel of his leg covering hers a welcome weight, a reminder that she was here with him and for the moment, entirely safe.

"You are NOT a job, Jennifer," Dave growled, his eyes darkening as he stared down into her clear, beautiful gaze.

"You're right, I'm THE job for Jason," JJ sighed tiredly, letting out a deep breath as her thoughts shifted to the upcoming ordeal.

"No, you're not. Or at least you won't be. I swear to God, the first time he tries to push too hard…," Dave muttered, tensing beside her, unable to even imagine her in any sort of pain or trauma.

"You'll sit there and act like the seasoned agent you are," JJ ordered quickly, turning her head to raise a brow at him, her fingers reaching for his skin again, "Or I'll have you banned from our sessions, too."

"Good luck with that, JJ," Dave rumbled, her threat meaningless as he captured her pain-inflicting fingers. "We both know hell is going to freeze before I leave you alone with Jason Gideon and his tactics."

"He's good, Dave. You KNOW he's good," JJ replied softly, lifting her eyes to his as she settled back against the pillow. "Let him do his job."

"Not if it means sacrificing your sanity, I won't," Dave retorted. Pursing his lips as he saw the defiant light in her eye, Dave conceded, "Look, JJ, I know Jason is good. Probably the best in his particular field even. And he and I have different methodologies that are often at odds with each other. We're natural adversaries. We always have been. But I don't believe he'd deliberately harm you. I wouldn't let you near him if I did."

"Two alpha dogs fighting over the same bone," JJ groaned, letting out a deep sigh as she snuggled against the motel mattress. "How animalistic."

"We've worked successfully together before, JJ. Don't worry about it," Dave soothed, rubbing his foot against hers. "My relationship with Gid shouldn't even be on your radar."

"Can't help it," JJ said, shrugging one shoulder. "Every time he comes near me, you look like you want to rip his head off."

"But I haven't and I won't…unless it becomes necessary," Dave returned implacably.

"You know, I've never noticed you being particularly protective of a witness before this, Dave," JJ fished, searching his face for answers to questions she was afraid to ask. And if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answers.

"I told you once, Jen," Dave replied quietly, meeting her gaze without blinking. "You aren't just the average victim and witness. This is personal. To all of us."

She knew it was the pat explanation. And she knew to some extent, he was right. But there was something more in his eyes. Something unspoken. And as much as she wanted to prod and to analyze it, she knew this wasn't the time.

Unaware of her thoughts, Dave murmured, firmly, "Okay, JJ…you got the scoop. Now it's time to keep your end of the deal. No welshing."

"I'm not. I won't," JJ whispered, turning to face away from him, but moving slightly closer as the air vents overhead kicked on. Silent for a moment, she said softly, "We'll find him, right? The man who killed Lacy."

Hearing the huskiness of her question, Dave's heart clenched. Turning on his side, he threw an arm around her waist, palming her hip and pulled her back against his chest. Dropping a kiss against her warm temple, Dave nodded. "We'll find him, Babe," he murmured against her ear. "Just try to be patient."

Nodding once, JJ closed her eyes as his warm body cradled her from behind, his arm a heavy, but welcome, weight across her thin body as the heat radiating from his body comforted her. Smiling when he made no move to pull away, she wondered if, perhaps, there was a lot more to David Rossi than met the average eye.

And somewhere inside her, she knew there was.


	35. Chapter 34

_**Author's Note: Please let us know if this story is still capturing your interest. Please leave a review! We love hearing from all of you!**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

"Freaking small town internet providers," Penelope Garcia grumbled as she drummed her fingers impatiently against the metal desk she sat behind, waiting for another data page to load. "These people are living in the stone ages," she muttered to herself, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch someone at the local telephone company that controlled the dial up speed. "How do these people live like this?" she grumbled under her breath, choosing to close her eyes for a moment rather than subject herself to the horror that was occurring right before her.

"Problems, Garcia?" Emily asked, walking into the small office to stand behind the technician's chair as she looked over her shoulder at the white computer screen.

"Oh, nothing a few bands of internet signal wouldn't solve, Shortcake," Penelope said with a deep sigh, glancing over her shoulder at her colleague. "What's the haps?"

"Waiting on Hotch," Emily replied, taking a sip of her tepid coffee and grimacing, glancing down at the cup once again. "He wants to go talk to the Brenner family and see if we can get anything that might help us. What're you working on?"

Groaning, Penelope gathered her hair on top of her head as she stretched in her chair, waving her hand toward the non-cooperative screen. "I am currently doing battle with this backwater internet wasteland." Glancing at Emily, she shrugged. "I'm trying to do this background check Gideon wanted on that local coroner, Dr. Beaumont."

"Find anything yet?" Emily asked curiously, leaning a hip against the aged grey metal desk as she looked at the blank screen, noting that such an occurrence was normally uncommon in Penelope Garcia's presence.

"Just the basics so far…but my most nefarious paths have yet to be crossed because of signal strength," Garcia muttered, lifting a hand to bang the side of her computer, finally giving in to those homicidal urgers. "I'll get there though," she mumbled, glaring at the uncooperative machine. "Don't you worry."

Nodding, Emily suppressed a smile at Garcia's impression of a bulldog fighting for a rawhide bone. All she needed to do was bare her teeth at the computer and she'd have the face down pat. "I know you will, Garcia. What about our list of potential victims? Any luck there?"

"All KINDS of luck. To the tune of 1,093 potential hits," Garcia remarked with a roll of her eyes as she waved around a thick sheath of papers. "After I finish Mr. Agent Returned from the Depths of a Fiery Hell's project with the good doctor, I'm gonna get back on it. Weed through and try to find some probables." Glancing through the papers in her hand, she shook her head. "A lot of these can be immediately weeded out. While gruesome, bodies used for so-called satanic ritual don't exactly fit the bill, ya know?"

"Yeah," Emily nodded. "I know," she sighed. "When did people become so sick and twisted, Garcia?" Emily asked softly, her voice filled with a rare moment of sadness.

"Oh, my plucky profiler, people have ALWAYS been this twisted. Since the beginning of time, Em. Most people just don't recognize it. We don't get that benefit," Garcia shrugged, dropping the papers back on the desk with a plop.

"You're gonna need some help with this," Emily murmured, glancing at the number of pages, mentally calculating the sheer amount of data contained on those printouts.

"Already on it. After Morgan and Reid get done at that absolutely useless dumpsite, they're both being drafted on my search and destroy mission," Garcia said, smiling like a cat that had once met a lost little blonde in the middle of Wonderland.

"Still lording Morgan's mistake with that woman, Tasha, over his head, huh? How long are you gonna make him pay for, Garcia?" Emily said with a smile, congratulating her friend for her perseverance.

"Probably as long as you pretend that you don't have a huge crush on our intrepid leader," Garcia grinned, cocking an arched eyebrow in silent understanding.

"So, forever, huh?" Emily asked, widening her eyes dramatically for effect.

"Something like that," Garcia nodded, turning back to her computer and pumping a fist in the air. "Praise the Internet gods, it's finally loading!" she yelled, pointing at the screen, currently morphing into a search bank, letters and numbers appearing bit by bit.

"You got it?" Emily asked, bending slightly to look at the screen, blinking as she adjusted to the light change. Grabbing a file off the side table, she flipped through the information quickly, hoping for more information to jump to the surface.

"Hell to the yeah," Garcia chirped, bobbing her head as she danced in her seat. "I got him!" she chirped, tapping the screen lightly. "Clayton Beaumont, MD." A moment later, having read the pertinent details, Garcia grimaced as she said faintly, "Oh crap, Emily!"

Glancing up from the file in her hand, Emily bent toward Garcia again to look at the screen. "What is it, Garcia?"

"Nothing good," Garcia murmured. "Clayton Beaumont was serving with the Army in 1984 when this nightmare began and he was based out of Fort Campbell, Kentucky," she whispered.

"Okay," Emily drawled, not piecing the puzzle. "What does that mean to us, Garcia?"

"Kentucky, Emily. Fort Campbell!" Garcia yelped loudly.

"Still not seeing your point, Garcie," Emily shook her head. "Walk me through it," Emily urged softly.

Nodding wordlessly, Garcia tapped a few buttons on her keyboard, pulling up a map of Kentucky. "Look," she said, pointing at the brightly colored map, lines and stars spotting the major landmarks. "Pembroke, Kentucky, JJ's hometown is right here," she said, tapping the screen as she clicked a key to enlarge. "That was where Lacy and JJ were taken from. One little girl was taken from this little town of Oak Grove. Two little girls were taken from Hopkinsville. And two were taken from Clarksville, Tennessee. And this big green shaded area," Garcia said punching at the screen again, "Is…."

"Let me guess," Emily breathed, staring at the map in horror. "Fort Campbell, Kentucky." Looking over the shoulder at the door, Emily said urgently, "We need to get Hotch in here, Garcia. He needs to see this!"

"Emily!" Garcia said, grabbing her arm as she started toward the door. "There's more! Look at this!"

"What?" Emily asked sharply, her hair flying behind her as she jerked back around to face Garcia.

"It says here that Dr. Beaumont didn't start out his career in generalized medicine," Garcia read, staring at the screen again.

"Okay. What was his specialty then," Emily asked, clenching her jaw.

"He was a surgeon, specializing in cardiothoracics. Until a botched a operation left a retired civilian soldier dead on his table. He was reprimanded and the Army moved him into general medicine. Emily," Garcia said, her wide eyes meeting Emily's across the room, "This guy was a heart surgeon. I mean, he worked on everything…kidney…liver…but, his passion…it was the heart," she whispered, her normally stable hands shaking as she touched the keyboard.

"Son of a bitch! Our unsub might be right underneath our noses," Emily gasped, turning toward the door even as she spoke. "Stay there! I'll get Hotch and Gideon."


	36. Chapter 35

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

Blinking sleepily as she turned her body toward the warmth behind her, JJ sighed as she settled her head against the broad chest supporting her head. As the cobwebs clouding her mind fell away, JJ blinked again, listening to the slow, steady heartbeat beneath her ear. Glancing around the small room, the enormous weight of her current waking nightmare again crashed over her, waves of anguish threatening to suffocate her as her small hand unconsciously clenched in the cotton material of the shirt beneath her fingertips.

Even in sleep, David Rossi's hand reached up to cover hers, to soothe her. An involuntary smile crossed her lips at that simple act of protection. Settling against him, the curve of her body pressed into the side of his, she realized that even above her initial fear, she knew she was secure…safe. And she'd stay that way as long as he was near.

It was strange. All her life, she'd rarely allowed anyone, especially men, to be close close…and she'd certainly never relied on any one, save her father. In any other man, David Rossi's arrogance and control would be repulsive. But with him, it was natural and it seemed even more natural for her to accept it…relish it. Because, for her, those attributes represented safety, a safe port in the storm that had become her life.

Biting her lip as she slowly eased her grip on his shirt and turned her hand to lace her fingers with his, JJ recognized that her feelings were growing…evolving… for this enigmatic man laying beside her. When he'd returned to the BAU months ago, she'd relegated these feelings to merely being a result of his role in her early childhood. He'd saved her. Carried her out of the bowels of hell.

But as they'd worked together on case after case and she'd watched the man he'd become over the years, her attraction had grown. And she was an intelligent enough woman to recognize that her feelings weren't ebbing. The six year old little girl had seen the hero in him. The thirty-one year old woman she was definitely saw the man…flaws, follies and all. And she liked what she saw. She liked it a lot.

She liked him a lot.

Lifting her head slightly to glance across Dave's body at the alarm clock on the nightstand, she dropped her head lightly back to his chest. An hour and a half. She'd slept peacefully, in his arms, for an hour and a half. Perhaps, he'd been right after all. She certainly felt stronger, not that she'd ever share that information with him. Smiling slightly, she silently thought that he was conceited enough without her stroking his ego.

Easing out of his arms, JJ slowly untangled her body from his, carefully watching his face. She didn't want to awaken him. He needed the rest as much as she did, and, unlike her, he'd spent most of the night awake, watching over her. Hearing him murmur, she watched as he reached for her again in sleep. Hushing him softly, she softly whispered, "I'm okay, Dave. Go back to sleep." Quietly grabbing her bag from the end of the bed, she headed toward the bathroom. A nice refreshing shower must be her next order of business.

She suffered no delusions about what was coming. The next several hours in all likelihood were going to be some of the most grueling she'd ever experienced. God knew, she'd seen regressions before and none of it had ever appeared especially pleasant. She was going to need her strength, her energy. And anything she could do to build it was a necessity.

**~*~**

Distantly Dave's foggy mind recognized the sound of what he assumed was falling rain, and he frowned at the thought that a shower might ruin JJ's afternoon at the stables. Reaching out a hand to touch the woman beside him, his fingers found cool sheets instead of the expected warm skin.

Flashing his eyes open, he quickly scrubbed a hand down his face as his heart began to race. As he opened his mouth to shout for her, however, he realized that the sound he heard wasn't rain at all, but the sound of a running shower. Glancing toward the foot of the bed, he noted her missing go bag, and as he looked toward the closed bathroom door, he relaxed marginally as he noted the warm steam floating from the crack under the door. She was safe. Just taking a shower.

Collapsing back against the pillows again as the realization that she was safe and sound and still within shouting distance pervaded his thoughts, he slowly felt his heartbeat begin to slow. Damn, since when had he become this Nervous Nellie? He knew JJ was a well trained, highly qualified agent, well versed in taking care of herself. And others, for that matter. But none of that seemed to matter anymore. Because he'd seen the fragile woman beneath the hard shell she wore.

And that woman needed him.

Those thoughts were what propelled him out of the bed and sent him reaching for his cell. He speed dialed Hotch as he headed into the adjoining bedroom. Searching through his go bag for a clean shirt as he waited for Hotch to pick up, he sighed. Glancing at his watch, he figured they had about an hour to get to the stables.

"Agent Hotchner," Hotch answered tersely as Dave heard the other man greet him.

"It's me," Dave said briskly, pushing his arm through the sleeve of his dark blue shirt. "You got any new developments over there, Aaron?" Hearing only silence from the other end of the phone, Dave felt the hairs on the back of his neck stir. "Hotch?" Dave said gruffly.

Hesitantly, Hotch asked, "Are you alone right now, Dave?"

Hearing the cautious tone in their Unit Chief's voice, Dave quickly stepped back into the connecting doorway. Seeing the bathroom door still shut and shower still running, Dave replied, "For the moment. But you need to talk fast. JJ's in the shower."

"We've had some new developments with Beaumont, Dave," Hotch explained, his voice even and controlled but filled with something Dave couldn't recognize yet.

"The coroner?" Dave asked bluntly. "What kind of developments."

"Everything we have is circumstantial at best right now. But, Dr. Beaumont was a former army doctor stationed at Ft. Campbell during the year of the initial kidnappings. Fort Campbell falls within a thirty mile radius of all the homes of the girls that were taken. Not only that, but the good doctor didn't begin his career as a general practitioner. The Army demoted him after a botched operation. He was a surgeon, Dave. And his specialty was cardiology," Hotch informed him gravely.


	37. Chapter 36

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

"Son of a bitch!" Dave exploded, pounding his fist against his leg. "You mean to tell me that this bastard has been right under our noses? Certainly explains his hesitance to be of any real assistance."

"Yeah," Hotch murmured quietly, wondering for a moment if he had made a mistake telling this information to Rossi. But, he told himself, he had to share information pertinent to the case, and forewarned was forearmed. "Right now, we've got Garcia looking for a tangible connection between Beaumont and the families of the initial victims. But so far, nothing."

"Nobody's questioned the bastard yet?" Dave growled, his fist clenching at his side.

"Gideon thinks it's odd that JJ didn't have any reaction to him," Hotch explained calmly. "He wanted to…"

Shaking his head, Rossi interrupted quickly, his voice hardened. "Understand this, Aaron. I don't give a shit what Jason Gideon has up his sleeve. Until we know if Beaumont is our unsub, JJ isn't getting anywhere near that piece of shit again."

"Gideon made a good point though, Dave. Even if she can't remember him, she'd have had some kind of unconscious reaction to her captor. Her body should unconsciously remember something."

"It's a no-go, Aaron. We'll have to find our answers another way. I won't expose her for a second time to a man that would love to see her in the ground," Dave bit out, glancing toward the bathroom door again, hoping that the woman he cared for deeply wouldn't come out at that moment. "Question the son of a bitch! Better yet, let me talk to the bastard!!"

"Listen, Dave," Hotch stated quietly, "I'll support your decision on keeping JJ away from this guy. I've already told Gideon that I didn't think it was a good idea and that he should concentrate on his regression therapy with JJ tonight to find a link if it exists at all. But, I don't want to tip our hand with this guy until we've situated ourselves in a better position and built a case against him. Beaumont is smart. Educated. We need all our ducks in a row before we go for his with guns blazing."

"What about Gibbs?" Dave asked roughly, remembering his former war buddies unique talents in the interrogation room. "Have we heard anything else from NCIS and their medical examiner?"

"Gideon talked to me about it and I've already been on the phone with Director Vance. The wheels are in motion. Dr. Mallard is one of the best in his field, internationally known. I expect we'll be seeing them soon," Hotch answered, mentally wondering if he could speed up time.

"Not soon enough," Dave muttered, privately thinking they needed all the help they could get. "When we DO interrogate the doctor, we might want to consider letting Agent Gibbs take lead. I've honestly never seen anybody better than him under the white lights. He's got a gift for getting the truth out of unwilling participants."

"Let's just see if we can find a better connection before we focus our energy on the doctor completely, Dave," Hotch suggested.

"Anything else?" Dave sighed, unwillingly recognizing the wisdom of Aaron's words.

"Morgan and Reid are working victimology. Trying to find out how he chooses his victims and why his victim base has changed from young girls to adults," Hotch replied.

"Any luck on identifying the other two women?" Dave asked, pacing side to side, his feet eating up the small patch of carpet.

"Not yet," Hotch sighed. "But we're working on it, Dave."

"What about his other victims? Are we any further on identifying them?" Dave asked, growing agitated as he realized they were meeting brick wall after brick wall.

"Emily and I are working on it now," Hotch said with a shake of his dark head, remembering the last hour he and the dark-haired agent had sat side by side, perusing files and case. "So far, we have fourteen that look likely and have requested the police records. Most runaways and homeless."

"So he went from choosing his victims to taking an opportunistic approach?" Dave muttered, shifting suddenly as he thought he heard a noise. Listening closely for a moment, all he heard then was the clicking of the heating system. Turning back to the conversation with his Unit Chief, Dave asked bluntly, "Where are these bodies at, Hotch?"

"It appears he cut a path from Tennessee to Kentucky to Ohio to Pennsylvania," Hotch murmured, the various case files still running together in his mind.

"He's worked his way back to JJ," Dave cringed as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. "Christ, he's coming for her, Aaron."

"And it's our job to make sure he fails," Hotch replied, his tone firm. "But in order to do that, we need to figure out his pattern. His methodology.

Nodding to himself, Dave forced his mind to move back into profiler mode, to ignore the emotions coursing through his mind. Thoughtfully, he said, slowly, "Twenty-five years ago, he would have been just starting out in his career and more than likely in his perversions. Taking children allowed him a measure of control. They're predictable. Intimidate them, instill fear and they are easier to manage. Perhaps as he became more experienced, he opted for more of a challenge. Maybe he started choosing his victims more randomly. He still needed them to be relatively easy to grab like a child would be, but perhaps he wanted them to put up more of a fight."

Sighing, Hotch murmured, "Nothing is certain right now. Are you still planning to escort JJ to the stables with her father?"

"Told you, Hotch," Dave replied, his voice hardened, "I'm not leaving her. Twenty-five years ago, we couldn't stop him from what he did to her. I'll be damned if we give this bastard a second go at her."

"I heard you, Dave. Half the Federal Building heard you," Hotch murmured in return. "Gideon said to let you know that he'll be around to her room around seven. Try to have her ready," Aaron ordered softly.

"Fuck, Hotch. You know as well as I do that there's no way to prepare her for this. You just make sure to keep the people in here to a minimal. At this point, I don't think much beyond you and Jason need to be here," Dave said, dropping to the mattress and resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed at his throbbing temple.

"Agreed," Hotch replied softly. "Unless something changes, I'll see you tonight, Dave."

"Yeah, tonight," Dave snorted, disconnecting the phone and throwing it on the bed beside him.


	38. Chapter 37

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

Dropping his head for a moment, Dave wondered just exactly how bad this night was going to be for all of them. Shaking his head, he slowly stood, fingers mindlessly buttoning up his shirt as he headed toward his bath, intent on finding his toothbrush. If he was lucky, he'd have enough time to make himself feel alive again, to shake off the lasting vestiges of sleep. As much as he had wanted JJ to sleep, taking a nap in the afternoon always seemed to throw him off balance, off schedule. But it was worth it if it meant that she rested.

But he had barely taken a step away from the bed when suddenly, the bedside lamp flickered, then the entire room was plunged into darkness. His mind reeling for a moment at the sudden change, he felt his heart plummet as a harsh feminine scream tore through the hotel room and the sound of a falling body echoed.

And he could only run toward the woman in the other room.

JJ had always believed in the redeeming powers of a hot shower, the water having the incomparable ability to somehow restore and revive at the same time, waking up her mind as well as her body. But then, she reminded herself ruefully, she had always been a water baby. Her mother had told her stories of hours spent in the lake, of times her parents had literally bribed and threatened, then forced her out of the water. She couldn't explain it to herself or to anyone else, but water, in any form or fashion, was comforting to her.

And today, of all days, she needed every bit of comfort she could get. Swinging open the plastic shower curtain, she tried to forget, for just a moment, the horrors of the case, and just focus on herself.

Smiling gratefully as she stepped out of the ancient porcelain tub, JJ grabbed for one of the generic white towels, the worn terry softer than she expected. Enough bad motels in enough small towns had taught her not to expect much in the way of linens, but at least these weren't the consistency of sandpaper. And the shower, while short, had at least rejuvenated her, the hot water pressure far better than she had expected.

Toweling off quickly, then wrapping the damp white fabric around her upper body, she took a few swipes at the fogged mirror, memories of her teenage years flickering back. The old farmhouse she had shared with her dad and mom may have been large, but the bathrooms, like this one, were miniscule. She could reach out on all sides and touch the walls.

Reaching for her comb, intending to tame the tangles that always occurred after she washed her long hair, she actually felt herself looking forward to the afternoon. While she would never admit it to Dave, that nap had done her a world of good, helping her clear her mind and renew her strength. Spending time with the horses always seemed to calm her, to remind her of a more peaceful time in her life, and she hoped that the same would happen again today. And, if she was being honest with herself, she was looking forward to sharing that time with a certain dark-haired man. But, she told herself sternly, yanking the comb through her damp strands, now was not the time to let her mind stray into that area. There was too much at stake with the case, and she needed to keep her head in the game.

Shifting to prop up against the small vanity as she squinted, she took another swipe at the mirror, the fog not having dissipated nearly enough. But as soon as her fingers touched the mirror, the lights above her flickered, then went out completely, plunging the tiny, damp room into total darkness.

JJ's breath caught in her chest as she suddenly felt the tight walls become even tighter, seeming to inch in on her. Her heartbeat pounded underneath her ribcage as she felt a scream tear out of her throat, her hands grappling for anything, slamming against the door, trying to open the tiny knob. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make the wood budge.

She could fill the panic welling inside her, tearing at her throat as she clawed at the damp wooden door, her finger nails digging groves into the unforgiving wood. She barely registered the tiny splinters burying underneath her nails, her entire focus on just getting out.

But her mind made a connection, once again. And that quickly, she was back in that hole in the ground, bugs crawling all over her legs as she screamed for her sister.

"_Lacy! Bring her back! Please bring her back!" JJ screamed, terrified as clawed at the trapdoor she knew was above her head, the rough planks scraping her tiny fingers, the big splinters catching and piercing her skin. But she couldn't stop. She had to get out. She had to get her sister, had to find her daddy. She had to take care of Sissy! She had to save Sissy!_

_One by one, she and Lacy had watched four other little girls disappear from the dank, smelly hole they were in, never to return again. She'd told Lacy that if that man, that horrible man, came for her first, Lacy had to be brave. Daddy would come for them. JJ had been so sure that it would be her he took first._

_But, no. It had been her baby sister he'd grabbed mercilessly by the hair, lifting her out of the dark as she'd clawed at Lacy's leg. "Please give her back!" JJ screamed at the ceiling, tears rolling down her face as the plank dropped once again, a heavy thud settling on top of it. "Let me out! Please let me out of here! Somebody help us!"_

_And once again, she was left in the cold, damp, horrible hole. But this time, she was all alone. _


	39. Chapter 38

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

JJ's harsh scream echoed in the room around him as he raced toward the bathroom door.

"Please give her back!" she shrieked, sheer horror filling those simple words.

Closing his eyes as he reached the door, Dave twisted the knob viciously as he realized that the loss of power and sudden darkness had sent JJ flying backward in time, locked in her own private hell once again.

"Honey, I'm coming!" Dave called through the door, frantically trying to release the door that had swelled, the steam from her shower expanding the wood in the old hotel room. Throwing his shoulder against the heavy wood, his heart clenched as he heard her desperate screaming pleas.

"Let me out! Please let me out of here!" she begged, pleaded, her high-pitched voice harsh from screaming. "Somebody help us!"

Squeezing his eyes shut as he forced himself to focus, Dave ordered, "Sweetheart, if you can hear me, step away from the door." Waiting a bare second, Dave threw his weight against the door a second time with enough force to jar his teeth.

But it wasn't in vain. Hearing the splinter of wood, he watched as the door suddenly gave beneath his formidable weight. Righting himself quickly, he could see JJ huddled against the wall, the filtered sunlight from the blinds in the bedroom casting on her.

"Honey," he whispered, moving toward her. Damn it, this was not supposed to happen again, at least not yet. "Come on, honey, let's get you out of here," he said calmly above her broken hoarse cries. Slipping a hand underneath her knees and another behind her back, he lifted her quivering form gently in his arms, whispering, "Let's get you into the light."

Carrying her quickly into the bedroom, he sat down gently on the side of the bed. Keeping her shivering body pressed against his, he reached one arm out to snatch the drapes open, allowing the afternoon sun to stream into the room. Dropping his arm back around her as she buried her tear soaked face in his neck, Dave sighed, rocking her in his arms. "Shhhh, you're safe, JJ," he soothed, forcing himself to remain calm as the shudders of her thin body increased.

"He took her first," JJ sobbed, her eyes tightly shut as she fought the visions in her mind. "I tried to pull her back but he took her anyway!" she recalled, her hoarse words muffled by his warm neck.

"It wasn't your fault, sweetheart," Dave whispered, tightening his arms around her, settling them both deeper into the worn chair.

"It was dark. So dark down there. The only time the light shined was when he opened the trapdoor to take one of us. And we watched them all go. One by one. They were just gone," JJ divulged, her voice cracking on the last word. "Then he took Sissy and I was all alone," she whimpered forlornly, the words barely audible in the still room. "All alone in the dark."

"Hey," Dave whispered, using a hand to guide her eyes, still trapped in the distant past, to his, stroking her cheek until she finally let him see her baby blue pupils. Confidently, he continued, "You aren't there anymore, Jen. You're here, in the light with me. I've got you."

"I shouldn't be," JJ confided hoarsely, her fingers burying in the denim material of his shirt tightly, holding on to him for dear life. "It should have been me that he took first. Not Lacy."

"Don't, honey," Dave winced, shaking his head automatically at that thought. "Don't do this to yourself. YOU barely survived, JJ. It's a miracle that you're even here. Don't insult God by telling him that he made the wrong choice. I'm sorry you lost your sister. Sorrier than I can say…if we'd gotten there sooner, then maybe-…but NONE of this was ever your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

His words made sense to her mind, but her heart still felt broken, battered, that memory of losing her sister still too much to bear. Sitting in silence against him, clinging to his shirt, JJ finally sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I can't abide the dark," JJ confided softly, her fingers clutching even tighter at that small admission. "And I'm claustrophobic now. That bathroom…"

"We'll leave the door cracked from now on," Dave soothed against her temple, rubbing her chilled arm, tucking her tighter as he felt a chill invade the air.

Swallowing, JJ glanced down her body and cringed. She was still wrapped in her damp terrycloth towel and nothing else. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself to be thankful she hadn't been naked. "I got you all wet," JJ noted woodenly, her fingers dragging against the edge of the faded towel.

"I'll dry, Jen," Dave murmured, his voice warm as his breath fanned her hair, trying not to notice how amazing it felt to have her bundled in his arms. Her slight weight pressed against him in all the right places, her femininity obvious even in her fragile state. Drawing in a deep breath, he asked, softly, "You okay now, babe?"

Nodding jerkily, JJ forced her eyes open, suddenly exhausted despite her nap earlier. "I'll be fine, Dave," she replied softy, pressing a hand against his chest for leverage. Shaking her damp head, she muttered, "I'm sorry about this."

"Hey," Dave murmured, tightening his arms around her when she would have bolted from his lap. "Look at me, Jennifer," he ordered.

Hearing her full name flow from his lips. JJ paused in her escape, her eyes automatically finding his.

"Don't you ever apologize to me for something you can't help, JJ. If I'd listened to my gut all those years ago, you wouldn't be sitting here now living in hell. You wanna blame somebody? Blame me. But not yourself. Not for this and not for what happened twenty-five years ago," Dave said steadily, his dark eyes boring into hers.

"I know the story, David. I've read the files. You pleaded with them to go back…to investigate more. It was MY own father that chased you all out. You aren't responsible for this," JJ whispered, lifting a hand to his face without conscious thought, automatically cupping his cheek. The feel of his whiskers scraped gently against her palm, her finger tips pressing lightly.

"And you are?" Dave laughed bitterly, snorting as he tightened his grip against his towel-covered weight. "We knew something felt wrong and we left anyway…Gideon and me. Hell, Max was determined to stay…convinced he was right and we dragged him out of there. This bastard has walked free for a quarter of a century because of a mistake WE all made."

"You did the job you were sent in to do to the best of your ability," JJ insisted, cupping his cheek tighter, staring deeply into his flashing dark eyes. "And you did it until the Bureau and my father made you stop. That isn't on ANY of you."

Turning his head to press a kiss to her open palm, Dave shook his head. "You have a too forgiving heart, JJ. Don't misunderstand," he said quickly as she frowned at those words, "I'm grateful for it. But this much I can promise you…we won't leave this time until he's dead or caught."

Smiling sadly, JJ whispered, the heaviness settling on her shoulders once again, "Hopefully before any other innocent people have to die."

"That's the plan, honey," Dave nodded, smiling reassuringly down into her pale face. Rubbing her back warmly, fingers sliding against her bare skin, he whispered, "Why don't you finish getting ready. Your father will be waiting on us."

Nodding, JJ scooted out of his lap, wrapping her hand around her towel to hold it securely to her breasts. Weaving unsteadily on her feet, she felt his hand grip her arm as he stood behind her.

"Slowly, Babe. Get your land legs back," Dave chastised softly, keeping his hand solidly around her arm as she steadied herself, pressing back against him as she caught her balance.

"I'm okay now," JJ muttered, glancing ruefully at him over her shoulder. "You know I'm not normally like this."

"I know," Dave nodded, sliding his fingertips down her arm to tap against his long fingers. "But just for now, you let us take care of you."

"Seems like you're getting the lion's share of that duty," JJ said, smiling faintly as she silently thanked the powers that be for it. For him.

Pulling her toward him, Dave bent to whisper in her ear, "Never a duty, JJ. Not with you." Brushing a kiss to her pale cheek, he murmured, "Go get ready to go."

And watching her as she slowly walked back into the small bathroom, careful not to close the door completely, Dave sighed. Of all the women he could have fallen in love with, it had to be the one he didn't come close to deserving that had captured his heart.


	40. Chapter 39

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

Shifting his head as the sun broke through the clouds again, Rossi pressed harder against the worn wooden fence as he watched the handsome purebred trot around the field. Or rather, he was watching the beautiful blonde riding the horse. Her long ponytail bounced behind her as she easily managed the large animal, her feet shifting expertly in the stirrups as she loosened and tightened the reins as necessary.

Grinning as he watched her quicken the pace, her confidence rising as she and the horse became acquainted, he hoped that this little recess from the case would relax JJ completely. God only knew that she desperately needed it, her eyes still haunted from that flashback from just an hour earlier. She had pasted on a cheerful face, trying to forget what happened, but he had learned to see beyond her mask. Her eyes always gave her away, those expressive baby blues providing him the perfect gateway into her soul. And he wished, more than anything, that he could erase those shadows. But he couldn't. At least not until they found the psycho terrorizing her. And David Rossi vowed to make that happen as soon as humanly possible.

Catching the edge of a shadow falling over his arm, he turned in time to see Locke Jareau step into place beside him.

His eyes following his only daughter as she reached the edge of the pasture, Locke said softly, shaking his graying head, "She was always a humdinger when it came to those horses, you know. Her mama and I were afraid she'd never want to be near them again after the move, but she took to them like a duck to water again."

Looking around the pasture as he watched the young blonde come near them again, Rossi nodded, sliding his shoe against the lower rung of the fence. "She's a natural. And she seems to enjoy riding, which might be a good relaxation for her while we're here."

"There's a whole stable out at Jack Gibbs' place, too. He's still tending his own, and said that Jenny was welcome to ride 'em whenever she wanted. Keep trying to get him to let Nick Hastings train his, too, but he's a stubborn old coot," Locke said with a shake of his silver head, cocking his head as the sunlight shone against his eyes.

"Like father, like son," Rossi agreed with a grin, remembering meeting the elderly man earlier that day. "Jethro Gibbs obviously didn't fall too far from the tree."

"Jethro's a keeper, that's for sure. And I hear that your Agent Hotchner's got the ball rolling on getting Ducky Mallard and that crew on up here," Locke mentioned, watching as his daughter easily turned the horse back toward them. "Know when they'll show?"

"Hard to tell. Especially when Jethro's in the mix," Dave shrugged, remembering well how the NCIS agent marched to the beat of his own drummer. The man was not known for operating on any bureaucratic time schedule.

Raising a brow, Locke grunted, "You know Jethro well?"

"We've got a history," Dave mumbled, wondering how he could avoid this topic completely.

"Professional or personal?" Locke asked with a grey raised brow.

"Both," Dave declared flatly. With a sidelong look at Locke, he added, "And that's all you're getting."

"Tight lipped bastard," Locke chuckled, half in appreciation of the other man's stubbornness.

"Yeah, that part hasn't changed," Dave nodded. "I'd expect to see their team in the next twenty-four hours though."

"If not sooner," Locke said softly. "Jethro always had a soft spot for my Jenny."

"Pardon?" Dave questioned sharply, swinging his head toward Locke as he comprehended that telling statement.

"Oh, don't go getting' your britches in a twist," Locke snorted, tapping his foot on the lower fence rung in impatience. "It weren't nothin' like that. Gibbs' first wife, Shannon…she used to babysit JJ when she was younger. My little girl used to chaperone her and Jethro's dates. Turned out she was more his co-conspirator though. She used to serve as their lookout," Locke chuckled.

"Ah," Dave sighed, letting his shoulders relax again. "I see."

"Ha! I watched that look in your eyes just now, Boy. You ain't half as suave as you think you are. That was jealousy that I saw. You sweet on my little girl?" Locke asked, narrowing his gaze on the other man, not allowing anyone, especially this man, to get close to his daughter without questioning his motives.

Tightening his fingers against the wooden fence, Dave hedged, "And if I am?"

"I'd tell you to be careful. I might be retired but I still know a few decent places to hide a body," Locke returned evenly. "But, I suppose she could do worse than you."

"She could do a hell of a lot better, too," Dave replied softly, his eyes flashing back to the blonde they were discussing. Her hair flew behind her as she increased the horse's speed, easily turning the animal with the simplest of commands.

"That's true," Locke replied easily. "But I learned a long time ago that the heart wants what the heart wants."

"Wise words," Dave murmured.

Eyes following his daughter's horse, Locke sighed. "She looked a little wan when ya'll got here. Anything I should know about?"

Clearing his throat, Dave was a little uncertain how to answer his question, but looking at the concerned father beside him, he knew he owed him honesty. "She had a few bad moments back at the motel, Locke."

"Bad, how exactly?" Locke asked, turning to look at Dave, his voice demanding answers.

"Power went out in the room. She was in the bathroom at the time and it didn't have any windows. She'd just taken a shower and the steam had swelled the door shut. She panicked and had a flashback," Dave explained quickly, trying to avoid sharing details that might only serve to increase the older man's agitation.

Gripping the wooden fence, Locke bit out, "How bad?"

"Bad enough," Dave muttered.

"Did she remember anything?" Locke asked, his jaw clenching at the thoughts of his daughter once again having to relieve that nightmare.

"Nothing that she couldn't have lived without remembering," Dave said sadly. Looking at JJ's father, he continued, "And nothing that will help you to know."

"Don't you think I'm old enough to be the judge of that, son?" Locke asked sarcastically.

His mouth open to respond, Rossi suddenly heard a loud whinny. His eyes snapping back to the field, he watched as Snowball reared suddenly, front hooves pawing the air. And then he watched as the tiny woman on the horse's back fell to the ground with a thud.


	41. Chapter 40

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty**

Trying to open her eyes, JJ fought against the ache building in her neck as she pushed up, her fingers clutching at the hard ground. Grinding her elbows against the dirt, she tried to find her balance. For a moment, her disoriented mind refused to cooperate, refused to force her body to obey commands. But she knew that she had to move.

The whinnies of her horse invaded through her rattled head, followed by the sounds of yells and running feet. She could literally feel the ground vibrating beneath her, rattling her body. Feeling strong hands grab at her arm, she fought a rising panic for a moment as she snapped open her eyes, staring up into the dark black gaze of David Rossi.

Dropping down to the cold ground beside her, Dave ran quick hands over her, feeling every limb as he asked, sharply, "Jen, what happened? What hurts?"

"Answer him, Sprite," Locke demanded from her other side, his knees creaking as he dropped beside his daughter. Never pulling his eyes off of her pale face, he ordered, "We need a doctor, Rossi. We need to get her to an ER now."

Shaking her head at those words, JJ tried to swat away the probing hands as she struggled to sit up straight. Turning to look at her father, she tried not to wince as she assured him, "Daddy, I'm fine. I just took a tumble. It's not my first, you know."

"Doesn't make it any better now, does it?" Locke replied gruffly, slipping his hand behind his daughter's shoulder as she propped on the unforgiving ground.

"Listen to your father, Jennifer," Dave ordered roughly from her other side, barely convinced that she should be moving at all. She might not have any broken bones, but a fall of that magnitude had to result in some form of injury. And he wasn't taking any chances. Not with this woman. Glancing over at Locke, he said, voice low, "If we need a doctor, we're going to have to take her out of Sunshine and into…"

"And in to nowhere!" JJ interrupted, her aches and pains quickly forgotten as she grabbed hold of Rossi's shoulder, using it as leverage to pull up to a standing position. That simple movement might not have been her wisest choice, but she chose to ignore the pull in her shoulder. Glaring between the two men trying to push her back down, she declared, loudly, "I'm perfectly fine!"

"Jen, a horse just put you on the ground. I think…." Dave began, dark eyes flashing with concern and mounting anger.

"Wait!" JJ interrupted quickly as she pushed away, her eyes adjusting to the sunlight as she scanned the pasture, a frown growing on her face. "Where's the horse? Where's Snowball's grandbaby?"

A deep voice came from behind her just then, a soft whinny accompanying. "Right here, miss. She didn't go far."

Turning sharply, ignoring completely the catch in her shoulder, JJ came face to face with a tall man, his brown eyes set deeply into a well-defined face, heavy dark brows shadowing his face. Taking a step toward the man, she bit her lip for a moment, unable to place him as she asked, slowly, "She's not hurt, is she? Did something spook her?"

Shaking his dark head, the strange man replied softly, hands holding the reins of the now docile horse, "She's fine, miss. Apparently she just didn't take kindly to the field at that moment."

Stepping next to his daughter, Locke Jareau said warmly, "You did a good job catching her, son. She was off to the races after she popped Jenny here." Turning to his daughter and Dave, he said, easily, "Jenny, Agent Rossi, meet Nick Hastings. He's the new trainer here. Nick, meet my daughter Jenny and Dave Rossi."

Nodding to JJ and Rossi politely, Nick frowned as he wrapped the reins loosely around his large hand, tucking it up against the edge of his long sleeve. "Pleased to meet you both, although I wish it was under different circumstances. Your dad mentioned that your unit would be coming to help with finding that animal that killed those women."

"That's our goal," JJ murmured, tightening her fingers around Dave's arm as she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. "The horse is okay, right?" she worried, swallowing hard as she fought the waves in her mind.

"The damn horse is the least of our concerns, JJ," Dave muttered, running his eyes down her body again. Jesus, he felt like he'd had a dozen years scared from his life when he'd seen her small, fragile body go hurtling through the air.

"Horse is fine, miss. Just a little spooked. Been havin' trouble with her these last few days though. She threw me yesterday and I haven't been thrown off a mount in years," Nick admitted ruefully, glancing over his shoulder at the still horse. "That's why I was hurrying over here…to try and warn you. Guess I listened to my voice messages a few minutes too late, huh, Mr. Jareau?" he said, holding up his cell phone to the elder man.

"No harm done," JJ shrugged, wincing out how much that small motion hurt her.

"The hell," Dave growled, tightening his arm around her waist. "I saw that grimace, Jen. You're in pain, damn it!" Dave muttered, running his fingers gently down her spine, prodding gently.

"I just fell off a horse, Dave," JJ returned evenly, leaning away from his touch. "Of course I'm going to be a little sore," she said, forcing a smile at the trainer, squinting against the ray of sun that flashed just then. "She's certainly a feisty little filly."

"Like her mama before her from what I've heard," Nick nodded, returning JJ's smile, his lined cheeks crinkling. "Legend has it that her grandmamma was a handful, too."

"Snowball could definitely get riled when the occasion called for it," Locke grinned, nodding. Turning his gaze back to his daughter, he said, "You sure we don't need to get you checked out, Sprite?"

"I'm fine, daddy," JJ shook her head, taking a careful step forward, taking a small amount of pleasure in the fact that she at least hadn't banged up an ankle in the fall. "Nothing sitting down for a minute and catching my breath won't help."

Catching her arm in a gentle grip, Dave shook his head. "Slowly, Jen," he warned, guiding her toward the stacked bales of hay and seating her carefully.

"Mr. Jareau, I've got some liniment back there on my desk that might help tonight when the soreness sets up," the trainer offered generously. "Old lady Perkins' homemade stuff. A lot of people don't put much stock in it, but it sure seemed to help me. Want me to grab it for you?"

"No need, Son. I wanna go back there and check on the filly anyhow. I can just grab it on my way back out if you don't mind," Locke said with easy familiarity, heading in the general direction of the stable office.

"Not a problem at all, Sir. I'm just sorry I wasn't here when you fell off, Ms. Jareau," Nick apologized, frowning in JJ's direction as he wrapped the reins of the horse around the top rung of the grey weathered fence.

Watching her father walk toward the stables, JJ shook her head. "Not at all, Mr. Hastings. I should've given her more time to get used to me before I tried riding her. I was just so excited. It feels like it's been years since I've ridden."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, her mother ought to be recovered enough by next week for you to climb back in her saddle. Think you'll still be around these parts by then?" Nick asked curiously, leaning against the fencepost, one elbow propped on the leveled top.

"God, I hope not," Dave muttered, keeping his hand on JJ's shoulder as his cell phone rang. Glancing down, he murmured, "It's Gideon. I've gotta take this, Jen."

Nodding, JJ smiled up at him. "Go, I'm fine."

"Don't move from that spot," Dave ordered, moving away from her, the trainer, and the horse as he pressed the phone to his ear.


	42. Chapter 41

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-One**

Turning back toward the horse trainer, JJ smiled as the man seemed to study her closely. "Is something wrong?" she asked quietly as she began to grow uncomfortable under his sudden scrutiny.

"Oh, no, ma'am," Nick said abashedly, shaking his head as he seemed to snap himself back into focus. "I guess I was just woolgathering. Trying to figure out what might be up with that new addition to the stable. Could be any number of things, I suppose," he said, shrugging. "She was doing just fine earlier today, though. But at least you weren't hurt though. I guess we should just thank the powers that be for that."

"Nothing a long hot shower won't help," JJ agreed with another smile, looking up into Nick's face again. Trying not to wince as she cocked her head to the side, she said, thoughtfully, "You seem so familiar. But you hadn't moved to this area before I left, had you?"

"No, ma'am. I don't think so. But if it helps, I get that from a lot of people. Must be this generic hair color of mine," he grinned easily, pointing at his head.

"Maybe it's because I've heard my father say so many nice things about you. Anne, too, for that matter," JJ replied, shifting against the hay bale as she drew her feet back, propping up easier.

"Anne? Anne Fortner?" Nick said, blushing, dropping his chin down to his chest as he stared at the roughened ground.

"Yeah, she and I were friends in high school. She's helping with the case," JJ nodded, grinning at the man's response.

"Is that a fact?" Nick remarked thoughtfully, raising his eyes back up to look at JJ. "Anne's a real sweet lady."

"Yeah, she is," JJ said truthfully, nodding in agreement. "And from what I hear around town, you're a very talented horse trainer."

"Oh, I reckon that I'm fair," Nick said sheepishly, scuffing the ground as he leaned heavier against the fencepost. "Just always loved animals."

"Spend any time in Kentucky?" JJ asked curiously, glancing over to her right as she checked on Dave. Seeing him still obviously deep in whatever discussion he was having, she turned her attention back to the trainer.

"Nah, thoroughbreds were never really my thing," Nick shook his head, shielding his eyes against a sudden burst of sunlight. "Mostly I've worked ranches up California and Washington way."

"What made you come East?" JJ asked quizzically, watching as the horse behind him leaned down to pull at the strands of grass.

Inhaling deeply, Nick shrugged. 'Guess I felt like I needed a change. Those California dreams just weren't paying off for me. Thought I'd get a change of scenery and hopefully gain some perspective."

"Has it worked so far, Mr. Hastings?" JJ asked, staring again at where Dave stood, leaning against the wooden fence, one foot resting carelessly on the first rung. His frown was evident even from her position, and she heard his voice carry for a moment through the clear pasture.

"Better than I ever could have hoped," Nick assured her softly, nodding once. "There're a lot of good people out this way," he said a little louder, drawing JJ's eyes back to him. "Hate seeing them all scared like this. Hope you all find this murdering bastard quickly."

"We all do," JJ nodded, shivering a little as a gust of wind crept through the open breezeway of the stable.

"Any leads yet?" Nick asked, scratching his ear as his hair fluttered in the wind.

"Nothing that we can announce publicly just yet. Hopefully soon, though," JJ said, giving her best reassuring press smile. "We want to make sure we have something solid to offer the people here before we go speaking out of turn. It's easy to turn people off in small communities. Especially close knit ones like Sunshine."

"Even when it's coming from a native daughter like you?" Nick questioned, raising a brow.

"I'm not exactly a native here, Mr. Hastings," she murmured, watching as Dave closed his phone and looked toward her. Smiling at him, JJ continued, "Sunshine sort of adopted my family."

"They've done the same with me," Nick nodded, following her gaze as Dave walked toward them.

Easily recognizing the dark flash in Dave's eyes, JJ stood up quickly, wincing slightly as she moved toward him, asking softly, "What's wrong, Dave? What's happened now?"

Glancing over her shoulder to see the trainer still watching them, Rossi muttered, "We'll talk about it in a minute. How are you feeling?"

Rolling her shoulders to prove to him that she still had use of all of her faculties, she murmured, "I told you I was fine. Just a little banged up. But tell me what's …."

Her father's voice interrupted them then, Locke rounding the corner as he declared, "Nick, boy, I found that liniment without a problem. And it looks like good stuff."

Turning toward the older man's voice, Nick smiled, nodding as he reached for a hayfork, "Miz Perkins is renowned for that stuff, and I'm sure it'll help out Ms. Jareau."

Nodding toward Locke, Dave said, his voice neutral, "How about we take that liniment to go, Locke? Hotch has some new information to go over, and I told him we'd head on back to the police station.

Frowning, Locke met Dave's dark eyes. "What kind of new information?" he asked suspiciously, tucking the glass bottle in the back pocket of his jeans.

"For one thing, he's talked to Gibbs," Dave muttered, helping JJ on with her jacket, frowning as he watched her slowly move her arm into the sleeve.

"Jack Gibbs?" Nick asked in confusion, turning quickly in their direction. "From down at the hardware store?"

"His son…Jethro," Locke said with a shake of his silver head, eyes glancing over at the younger trainer.

"I met him a few months ago," Nick nodded, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember the man. "But wasn't he with the Navy in some form or fashion? What's he got to do with the FBI?"

"He's with NCIS," JJ said in a low voice, hissing as she lifted her arms to slide them laboriously inside her jacket. "Occasionally, federal agencies work together to solve cases."

"And you all think this guy might be linked to the Navy?" Nick asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"We're not ruling anything out yet," Dave said flatly, helping JJ pull her long hair out of her jacket when she grimaced. "And in this case, it's better to have a second set of eyes." Looking down at JJ, Dave asked quietly, "You ready?"

Nodding once, JJ rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the kinks that the simple movement had caused. Feeling Dave's warm hand cup her elbow, she sighed. Turning toward the horse trainer, JJ smiled. "Thank you so much for your help today."

"Hopefully, the next time you come out it won't be so dramatic for you," Nick nodded toward all of them. "Make sure you use that cream, Ms. Jareau. Otherwise, you aren't gonna be able to hardly move in the morning."

"She'll remember," Dave grunted, wrapping a gentle arm around her waist as he turned her toward the vehicle. "Let's get going."


	43. Chapter 42

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Two**

Snagging a glazed donut from the break table, Derek Morgan headed toward the back offices. If he knew his girl at all, she'd been staring at that bank of computer screens of hers since he'd dropped her off this morning. And contrary to her opinion, she needed a break every now and then. In the past, she'd look upon his self-imposed breaks with a smile, but lately, things had changed. And he knew why.

More importantly, he knew it was his own damn fault.

He'd done the one thing guaranteed to push Penelope Garcia away from him. He'd lied. It didn't matter that it had really been more omission that lie. Not to her. And, honestly, not to him, either. His pseudo relationship with Tamara Barnes had very nearly cost him the one person he held most dear. And truthfully, he wasn't sure if he and Penelope would ever find their way back to where they'd been.

It had been so stupid. A meaningless fling with a victim's sister. Completely out of character for him. In all senses. He knew he'd had no business messing around with a victim's anything. But Tamara had been so open and easy to talk to at a time when none of the team had been in great shape. She'd been a reprieve from the hell his work had become. And he'd used her. For sex and companionship, he'd used her. He wasn't proud of himself…far from it.

Then, to add insult to injury, he'd just had to compound the sin by lying to Garcia about it. And if he knew one thing about his Baby Girl, it was that she hated untruths of any color.

He'd come clean to her after he'd ended things with Tamara. He'd been determined to clear the air between them. But in typical Garcia fashion, she'd waved away his excuses and cut to the heart of the matter, accusing him of not having enough faith in her and their relationship to tell the truth. And to some extent, she'd been right. But it hadn't been her that his faith had wavered in. It had been himself.

Things had been tense and stilted between them since, but he was determined that they'd find their way back to each other. They were halves of the same whole. He just had to make her realize it again. And since she and Kevin had broken off their relationship, he didn't see any roadblocks in his way…other than his own stupidly made choices. And he was going to find a way to gain her forgiveness for those as well.

He had to. He had no choice. Derek Morgan absolutely refused to live his life without the bright light of Penelope Garcia.

Softly opening the door to her makeshift office, he found her pink tinged blonde head resting in her hands. Not wanting to wake her if she was taking a much needed siesta, he crept quietly forward, his footsteps silent under the hum of the various computers.

"I know you're there, Morgan," Garcia said, her words muffled as she scrunched her eyes closed and popped them open again. Raising her head, she tried to focus on the computer screen in front of her and found it impossible, the data sliding from side to side in rolling waves. Her eyes were simply too tired to cooperate.

"Why would I expect anything less from our omniscient techie goddess?" Morgan grinned, dropping the cup of hot chocolate he'd grabbed to go at the diner down the street and the glazed donut on the desk in front of her. "You need to refuel, Princess," he chided gently, sliding the cup in her direction when she didn't automatically grab for it.

"I think I can safely figure out when I'm hungry," Penelope snapped, her voice petulant to her own ears. Shaking her head, she tried to force her mind back into gear, obviously not succeeding. Grimacing, she muttered, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Penelope," Morgan said softly, dragging a wooden chair to sit beside her, leaning her elbows on her knees. "I get it."

"I sincerely doubt that," she replied quietly, staring down at the worn metal desk as she reached for the steaming hot chocolate.

"Try me, then. Tell me what's got you upset, Garcia," Morgan suggested, trying to mentally prepare himself for any of the many responses she could give him.

"Why do you THINK that I'm upset, Morgan?" Garcia asked sharply, slamming her Styrofoam cup back to the desk, scattering her printouts. "My best friend is being stalked by some sick freak that's determined to finish the job he started a quarter of a century ago and steal her beating heart out of her chest!"

Watching as Garcia tried to catch her breath, Morgan raised a dark brow, knowing that even though his Penny was expressive, she normally didn't verbalize her anger so quickly. "I've got no doubt that you're upset JJ's in danger. Al of us are…but this anger that's just below your surface…that's all for me, isn't it?"

"Leave it alone, Derek," Garcia ground out, her fingers tightening around the soft styrofam. "This isn't the time."

Keeping his eyes on her face, Derek shook his head as he said, evenly, "Penelope, I've been waiting for it to be THE time for a couple of months now. Say what you need to say to me and let's move past this, Baby Girl. I miss my best friend. I want her back."

Meeting his concerned gaze, Penelope shook her head. "It's not that simple and you know it, Derek."

"I know I hurt you when I wasn't honest about Tamara. But it's over now, Sweetness. I ended it," Derek said softly, reaching for her bejeweled fingers.

Pulling her hand back, Garcia shook her head, drawing in a deep sigh as she said, firmly, "That's just it, Handsome. It's not over for me. We've been friends for six years, Derek. We've shared everything with each other. And you deliberately kept that part of your life a secret from me. And you've never even told me why."

Sighing, Derek ran a hand against the back of his bald head, realizing that she deserved more than he was giving. "You wanna know why, Baby Girl? Okay. I knew you wouldn't approve. I knew what you'd say. And at that time in my life, I just couldn't handle one more person telling me how I should act. I had Hotch and Rossi breathing down my neck about the Unit Chief position. I had Strauss in my ear, trying to make plans for Hotch's position. Prentiss was upset because she thought I was betraying Hotch. I just needed someone separate and apart from my work. I needed someone…"

"That would tell you what you wanted to hear," Penelope offered quietly, her eyes scanning his falling face.

"I guess," Morgan muttered, lowering his head in shame.

"Did you love her?" Pen asked tightly, her fingers clenching around the arm of her chair, steeling herself against his answer. She never thought she would have this discussion with him here, of all places, but now that they were talking, she was going to get the answers to ALL the questions that had plagued her for weeks and weeks.

"No," Derek replied truthfully, meeting her eyes without hesitation. "No, I didn't love her. I've only ever loved four women, Sweetness and she isn't one of them."

"Your mom and two sisters," Pen nodded, remembering the smiling, cheerful faces of those amazing Morgan women. But that only accounted for three, and he had said four. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Who's the other one?"

"You really need to ask that question, Baby Girl?" Derek asked, grinning ruefully, remembering the very night he had told HER that he loved her. The very night that he had thought he was losing her, a psychopathic murderer intent on taking her life.

Ignoring his question, Pen frowned, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I can forgive you, Derek, in time. But, I don't know if I can forget," Pen whispered, biting her lips. "I don't know if I should forget."

"Penelope, you can take this for what it's worth, but I'm never going to lie to you again. Not even for my own good. Not even for your own good. So, from now on, any question you ask me, be prepared to get an honest answer," Derek warned, his eyes warm as they sketched Garcia's face, searching for any sign that she might be willing to let him back into her life.

"I'll keep that in mind," Penelope said softly. "Now, was there another reason you decided to invade my lair like the conquering hero?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood as she flashed one of her patented smiles in his direction.

"Hotch wants all of us to meet in twenty," Derek nodded. "He's already called JJ and Rossi back in here so it must be important."

"No ideas?" Garcia asked, furrowing her brows, the case coming back to the forefront, her worries for her little JJ overriding her own personal issues once again.

"Plenty of ideas, just nothing conclusive. So be a good girl and fortify yourself," he ordered, nodding toward the donut.

"What are you? My self-appointed guardian?" Garcia grinned, reaching for the donut.

"Always, Baby Girl. Always," Morgan murmured, leaning back in his chair as he watched his golden haired goddess devour the sweet treat.


	44. Chapter 43

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Three**

Watching as her Unit Chief's lean, muscular body stalked past her, his hand hitting the glass door leading outside with enough force to rattle the window of the small police station, Emily bit the inside of jaw, silently deliberating whether she should follow the stoic man outside. She knew Hotch hated when his emotions got the better of him. And she knew that he'd be outside berating himself for the slip. On the other hand, she'd never done well when she knew one of her friends was hurting.

And Hotch was much more than just any friend to her – at least in her heart.

Glancing around the small bullpen to see several officers exchanging looks of dismay and confusion, Emily hesitated only a second more before Reid's soft voice penetrated her thoughts.

"I think one of us needs to go after him," Reid said faintly, staring at the glass doors their boss had just nearly blown off the hinges. "And, no offense, but I don't think I could take Hotch and he won't hit a girl," Reid added with a small smile. "That sounded a whole lot less sexist in my head," Reid murmured as Emily narrowed her gaze on the younger man.

"It's okay, Reid," Emily sighed, realizing that the younger man's words held the ring of truth even though they were definitely non-feminist. "Hold down the fort for me while I go see what's up," she said softly, heading for the exit, her mind already on the conversation she was about to have with their obviously upset leader. Slipping on her coat as she quickly walked out the swinging door, she turned her head, looking right and left. Seeing no one, she quickly walked down the steps and headed for the small alleyway beside the building. "Hotch?" she called quietly, glancing down the alley, catching sight of his tall form.

"I'm here," Hotch said gruffly, leaning against the brick building, his head pressed against the hard wall. Clenching his fingers in a hard fist at his side, he barely resisted pounding it against the unforgiving stone.

Starting toward him, Emily noted her boss' tense posture, the tightened jaw and the mussed hair that told her that he'd allowed his agitation to overwhelm him. "What's going on, Hotch?" she asked softly, not bothering to couch her words. Their timing was too delicate now, too precious, and she no longer had time to beat around the bush

"I just got off the phone with Dr. Mallard from Gibbs' NCIS team," Hotch revealed tightly, his words barely audible through his clenched teeth.

"O-kay," Emily said slowly, trying to determine what the problem was. From everything that she had heard about the NCIS team, they were professionals intent on determining the truth, which was exactly what they needed. "We invited them in, didn't we?"

Nodding once in a jerky movement, Hotch fisted his hands in his trouser pockets. "Yeah, we did. That isn't the problem. Dr. Mallard says we need to exhume the bodies of this unsub's earliest kills. According to him, paper reports of someone else's findings from twenty-five years ago aren't gonna get the job done."

"Oh, God," Emily cringed at the very thought, already imagining the implications of that requirement. "We've got to…"

"Get permission from Locke and JJ. And based on Rossi's reaction, that's gonna go over like a ton of bricks," Hotch replied gravely, looking at her as he shook his head. "Not only that, but we're gonna have to go through it five more times with five different families. And that's just to start with. Ducky said that if he finds differences, he'll have to examine each and every potential victim's body to determine if these are actually our unsub's victims."

"Christ, Hotch, that's at least thirty exhumation orders," Emily breathed, already feeling weighted down even more. Keeping her eyes on him, she could begin to feel his overwhelming anger.

"Across five states," Hotch nodded. Meeting Emily's worried gaze, Hotch whispered, "How the hell do I ask this of them? Any of them?"

Leaning against the wall beside him, Emily drew in a deep breath, staring at the aging red brick wall in front of them. "We don't have a choice, Hotch," Emily stated softly, sighing. "In order to beat this unsub at his own game, we've got to get ahead of him and if those remains can give us any clues at all…"

"We're duty bound to collect them," Hotch nodded, staring down at the cracked pavement beneath his feet. Quiet for a moment, he asked, finally, "Are there ever days when you really despise your job, Emily?"

"Of course," Emily replied faintly, immediately. "Then I remind myself why we do it. We do it so that one less person somewhere will suffer." Casting him a sidelong glance, she offered, hesitantly, "I can talk to them if you like…JJ and her dad."

"No," Hotch said firmly, shaking his head. "I've never shirked my duty and I won't start now. I just needed a minute to wrap my head around it before they arrived."

Reaching out, Emily lightly touched Hotch's hand, letting her fingers linger against his strong fingers. "I get it, Aaron. And no one that knows you could ever question your loyalty to this job."

Turning his palm to grasp hers, Hotch leaned his head back against the cool stone of the wall behind him and closed his eyes and allowed himself to draw a little strength from her light touch. "Thanks, Emily."

Squeezing his fingers one last time, Emily quirked her lips in a semblance of a smile. "That's what friends are for, right?" she asked hesitantly, unsure what to say in the charged moment that they seemed to be sharing.

"Right," Hotch agreed, forcing his hand to release hers, even though he felt an unexpected loss at that simple motion. "I guess we'd better go get ready. I've a feeling we're about to experience a fireworks show of epic proportions."


	45. Chapter 44

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Four**

"No!" Locke Jareau yelled angrily at the room filled with people. "Ain't no way in hell I'll EVER agree to this," he exclaimed, staring into the dark, stormy eyes of Aaron Hotchner.

"Mr. Jareau, if you'll just let me-," Hotch began, stiffening slightly in his chair as he felt JJ's accusing eyes meet his. They virtually screamed, "How could you!", even if she remained unusually still against the wall, barely breathing, as she watched her father pace the length of the room.

"Let you what, Boy? Convince me that desecrating my baby's grave is what's best for your case? Good damn luck with that, Youngster! You're gonna need it!" Locke shouted, angrily sweeping an agitated hand through his silvery locks as his gaze narrowed on Jason Gideon. "This was your idiotic notion, wasn't it? Torturing one of my children suddenly isn't enough for you? You wanna go chasin' after my baby girl's body now for cheap thrills?" Locke asked darkly, eyeing the elder profiler dangerously as his hands clenched at his sides.

Finding her voice, JJ took a shaky step forward as Dave wrapped a supportive arm around her waist. "Daddy," she pleaded, reaching for her aged father, "Calm down, please."

"Calm down, Sprite?" Locke choked, jerking his eyes to face his only living child. "The hell I will!" he exclaimed, his cheeks flushing a deep ruddy red in his agitation. "Did you hear what they just asked us to let 'em do?" Waving a single sheet of paper at his daughter, he shook his head. "I refuse to sign this thing, Jenny. I'm not giving these fools permission to violate Lacy's grave. Not now and not any other day!"

"I heard them, Daddy," JJ said quietly, frowning as she watched her father's hand clutch the wooden straight back chair in front of his in a grip that whitened his knuckles. Knowing that she was the only one that held the power to convince her father of the necessity of this action, she bit her lip as she forced herself to say, calmly, "But, they'd never ask this of either one of us if they thought it could be avoided. They're good people."

"I said no, damn it," Locke yelled, slamming a heavy hand against the scarred wooden table in front of him as a spate of coughing overtook him.

Moving forward quickly, JJ grabbed her father's arm as she pulled out one of the chairs and helped him ease into it. "Daddy, please calm down. You remember what those doctors have told us. This kind of stress could kill you," JJ worried aloud, reaching for her father's wrist and taking his pulse. She couldn't help the rising wave of panic that suddenly invaded her, the thoughts of losing her father too much to bear, especially while they were discussing the very thought of disturbing the grave of her dead sister.

"So could what these folks are askin' of me!" Locke rasped between deep coughs. Nodding at Emily as she slipped a paper cup of water in front of him, he took a slow sip. Drawing a deep breath into his lungs, he sat the water back on the table with a deliberate movement, the waxed paper cup bouncing slightly against the hard wood. Glancing around the room at the various concerned faces, he shook his head ruefully.

"Daddy-," JJ whispered, her eyes glued to his flushed face, wondering frantically if this had pushed him too far. Maybe the entire situation was too much for him. For both of them.

Turning his gaze back to his only remaining child, Locke noted her chilled fingers resting against the skin of his wrist. "I'm fine, Sprite," he muttered huskily, patting her hand awkwardly. "It was just the shock." Looking at Hotch, he asked, eyes narrowing, "Who's blame idea is this anyway?"

"Actually, Locke," came a deep voice from the open doorway, "it was Ducky Mallard that suggested it," Jack Gibbs said, stepping over the threshold as he met the eyes of his old friend.

Looking over his shoulder at his old friend, Locke shook his head. "Jethro's ME?" he asked gravely, that information moving him a bit more, knowing that the older doctor was well respected in his field.

Nodding, Jack moved further into the room as he took in his best friend's pale lips and reddened face. "Why don't we just wait until Jethro and the rest of his people get here for you to make your final decision? Won't be but a few hours anyway. You can ask Ducky for yourself if all this is really necessary," Jack offered calmly, throwing a casual smile in JJ's direction, nodding once as he met her worried eyes. "In the meantime, let's you and me go across the street to the diner and grab some grub. I don't know about you, Old Son, but I could do with a cup of joe."

"That's a good idea, Daddy," JJ said softly, silently thanking Jack Gibbs for his level head in the most trying of situations. "Why don't you do that and then let Mr. Jack give you a ride home? You know you aren't supposed to drive after one of these coughing spells."

Shaking his head as he pushed away from the table, Locke denied gruffly, "Weren't no spell this time. I'm fine to drive myself. But I'll take you up on that cup of coffee, Jack." Glaring at Hotch, his mouth set in a grim line, Locke said, "I'm not signing that thing until I know for a fact ya'll don't have any other choice. I'll wait for Mallard."

Nodding gravely, Hotch met the older man's clear blue eyes, willing to take whatever concession he could get. "I understand, sir."

Brushing a kiss to his daughter's head, Locke murmured, "I'll see you tomorrow, Sprite. I think I've had about as much of your BAU as I can stomach for one day."

Forcing herself to smile up at her father, JJ bit her lip as she watched her dad trudge tiredly from the room, Jack Gibbs following him closely. Waiting until she saw both men exit the glass doors of the station, she whirled suddenly, nailing Hotch with a deadly stare. "How could you do that to him? Ambush him like that?"

"JJ," Hotch said guiltily, holding up his hand to forestall what he knew was a justified argument.

"Did you know?" JJ asked, turning suddenly to face a passive David Rossi. "Did you know what Hotch was going to do, Dave?"

"I had a pretty good idea," Dave admitted, meeting her gaze head on. As much as it pained him to admit the fact, he knew that he couldn't lie to her. Not now. Not ever.

"Well, thank you so MUCH, for the goddamned warning, Rossi," JJ said sarcastically before turning back to Hotch, her jaw clenching tightly.

"You had no right!" JJ shouted at her stoic boss, calmly sitting before her, his hands clasped. "None of you!" she declared angrily as her eyes traveled over the occupants of the room, nailing every team member equally.

"Jayje," Emily called calmly, drawing the angry blonde's attention to her, "I know this is hard. But for a second, you've got to think like an agent…not a daughter and sister. You had to know that this was a possibility."

Wincing, JJ shook her head at the older woman. "Of course I knew it," JJ said shakily. "But for you all to set my father up like this…to blindside him with your request…that's just cruel," she said, stressing the last word as she looked around the room at her so-called friends with horrified eyes.

"Jayje," Morgan said deeply, stepping toward the trembling media liaison, "You KNOW that's the last thing ANY of us want you to think. We want to help. We want to get this guy. But to do that, we need whatever answers that your sister's body can-."

Throwing up a hand as a wave of nausea swept over her, JJ shook her head violently, trying to halt his words. "Stop! Just stop it! You don't think I know what has to happen? What Ducky has to do to her?" JJ asked as she took a stumbling step backward. Meeting Morgan's dark eyes, she said with a cracking voice, "You're the one that has NO IDEA how this feels!"

Turning sharply, JJ headed blindly toward the door, tears clouding her vision as she focused on escaping, if only for a moment.

"JJ, where are you going?" Gideon asked quickly, watching as the agent reached for the door knob with a shaking hand.

Suddenly feeling Dave's large warm hand cover hers against the metal of the knob, she looked at him pleadingly. "Please!" she gasped. "I can't breathe! I've got to get out of here for a minute!" she begged as the first teardrop landed against her skin.

Seeing her blue eyes virtually scream her need for freedom, Dave reluctantly released her hand and watched as JJ scrambled from the building, pushing aside anyone that came between her and the door.

"Should one of us go with her?" Spence asked, wide-eyed as he stared after JJ. In all the years he had worked with the media liaison, he had never seen her exhibit such emotion, such fear. But then, he hadn't known her past either.

"Maybe I should," Penelope began, speaking around the lump in her throat for the first time as she rose from her chair, hesitantly stepping away from the desk, her eyes jerking toward the door.

"Sit down," Dave ordered harshly, his tone cutting through every other voice in the small room. "All of you!"

"Dave-," Hotch began, closing his eyes as he realized that a Rossi explosion was imminent.

"You idiots!" Dave growled, his fists clenching at his side. "I told you not to do this…not this way! What, Gideon? Did you convince him your way was better?"

"I didn't say a damn word, Dave," Gideon said quietly, shaking his head as he met the eye of his old partner.

"So you did this on your own, Hotch?" Dave accused sharply, shifting his gaze back to the man he had once trained.

"We're working on borrowed time here, Rossi," Hotch reasoned calmly, his tone level and professional. "If we have any hope at all of finding this unsub…"

"I get that, Aaron. But I'll be damned if I'll let any one of you break JJ in the process! This was poorly done…by all of you!" Dave hissed, looking around the room at the uncomfortable colleagues currently shifting in their seats.

"I didn't think he'd react like that," Hotch admitted quietly, the admission the closest he would come to acknowledging the situation.

"Well, now you know," Dave snorted, shoving an irritated hand through his hair. "And to put the cherry on the sundae…you've just given JJ a reason not to have any faith in us. Congrats!" Giving the room one last disgusted look, Dave jerked his jacket off the back of the chair it was draped on.

"Where are you going?" Gid asked quietly.

"To try and undo some of the damage you've all inflicted on JJ with this little ambush of yours," Dave snapped, heading toward the door. "You'd all better pray that I have better luck than you did."


	46. Chapter 45

**A/N - Let us know your thoughts, readers. We hope you're all enjoying the story!**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Five**

Slamming out of the glass double doors, Dave quickly sprinted down the handful of steps leading to the cement sidewalk. Looking left and right and seeing no glistening blonde head in the distance, he inhaled deeply, drawing the crisp winter air into his lungs while he resisted the urge to yell JJ's name at the top of his lungs. Closing his eyes, his mind and heart went to war as he debated the best way to approach the situation. His original instincts were to whisk her away, to remove her completely from these decisions. But, he also realized that she would never allow such a thing to happen, so his second option was to find a way to buffer these blows, to lessen the impact somehow.

But first, he had to find the distraught woman.

Peering around the corner of the building, he spied her leaning with one shoulder against the wall as she bent at the waist. Damn it! He should have ripped Aaron Hotchner's head off as soon as he opened his mouth. Quickly walking down the narrow alley toward the one person he'd prayed never to see in this condition, he called out to her softly, warning her of his presence.

Straightening, JJ waved him off as she pressed her other hand to her cheek. "Go away!"

"We both know I'm not gonna do that, Jen," he said quietly, approaching the shivering woman as a gust of wind sent dried leaves tumbling down the corridor between the two brick buildings.

"I don't want you here," JJ bit out, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind whipped around her, sending a shiver coursing down her spine. But nothing could match the arctic chill wrapped inside her, gripping her heart in its spiny talons.

"I don't care," Dave muttered, wrapping his wool coat around her thin shoulders, pressing the jacket firmly in place when she tried to shrug it off.

"At least you're honest about that, unlike some of our colleagues," JJ snorted, angrily wiping at the wet tears against her cheek, irrationally upset for feeling warmer at the sudden weight of his coat.

"Sweetheart, you know, deep down, they didn't have a choice. Could they have gone about it better? Of course. But we both know that Hotch gets tunnel vision when it comes to solving cases," he reminded her quietly, feeling his jaw clench as he watched her shiver again.

"And what's your excuse, David?" JJ asked sharply, glancing up at him, her anger boiling over. "You could have given me some warning."

"Not without alerting your father, I couldn't. And I was praying Hotch would have shown a little more tact and good sense. I was wrong and I'm sorry," Dave apologized softly, knowing that she deserved the truth.

Biting her lip as another tear rolled down her cheek, JJ shook her head. "I don't want them to do this either…digging Lacy up. I can't stand the thought of her poor little body…" JJ whispered, trying to choke back a sob as images of her baby sister swamped her memory. Scrunching her eyes closed, JJ whispered, "I s-saw the pictures of what he did to her…I know I saw it firsthand, too…but I can't remember it. But those pictures…"

"Honey, don't," Dave grimaced, pulling the trembling woman against his solid chest, pressing a strong hand against her head, almost as if he was trying to push those memories from her mind. "Don't do this to yourself, Jen. It won't help."

Clutching the soft material of his shirt beneath her fingertips, JJ felt Dave slide his arms around her, holding her securely against his warm body. "How do I stop?" she asked brokenly, a ragged sob escaping again. "I see them every time I close my eyes…and somehow, I know what I have locked away inside me is so much worse. I don't know how, but I know."

Sliding his hand up and down her fragile spine, Dave closed his eyes as her hot tears burned his neck, her breath coming in short gasps against his skin as she sobbed in his arms. "JJ, we'll find him. We'll bring your sister some justice, honey. I promise we will," Dave soothed, stiffening slightly as he felt JJ slide her arms around his waist, leaning against him in the darkened alleyway.

Lifting drenched eyes to his, JJ whispered, pleading with every word, "Don't let them do this to her. Not again. It's not fair!"

Licking his lips, Dave knew he couldn't make her that promise. He wouldn't lie to the beautiful woman in front of him. In the long run, she'd thank him for that. He knew JJ well enough to understand how much she hated lies. "You know I can't guarantee that, Babe. As much as I want to, I can't. Let's just wait and see what Ducky's reasoning is," he suggested, his eyes staring down into hers.

Biting her lip, JJ forced herself to listen to his rational words, letting them sink in, trusting him. Tightening her fingers around him, JJ nodded. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll hear him out. But that's all I'm promising. I won't go against my father. And I won't stand for any of you going above his head. This is HIS decision. You'll back him up? Daddy?"

Nodding, Dave replied softly, more than willing to face off with whomever necessary if it ensured her safety and sanity. "I'll back YOU up, Jen."

"Thank you," JJ whispered, her chin trembling as she met his eyes for a charged moment. Catching her breath, she didn't give her mind time to convince her body not to act, instead choosing to listen to her heart as she pressed her cool lips to his. Nipping his lower lip gently, she slowly traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue, asking permission without words. Feeling his arms tighten around her, she released a relieved sigh as the seam of his lips parted, inviting her inside. Tentatively touching her tongue to his, JJ was electrified as he swept his tongue against hers, slowly stealing control of their embrace away from her.

Moaning against his lips as their tongues slowly engaged in an intimate dance, she felt him slowly backing her against the brick wall of the building, his lips never leaving hers. And for a moment she was content to simply cede control of the moment to the powerful man cradling her protectively against him as his hands roamed over her back.

"JJ," he tried to whisper against her pliant lips, all the while wanting nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and whisk her away to finish what they have started. "Honey, you're upset. We shouldn't…"

Shaking her head even as her lips clung to his, JJ whimpered, clutching tighter, needing the contact. Needing him. "Just for a minute, I want to forget."

Finding her logic unassailable, mostly because she tasted like heaven on earth, Dave lifted a hand from her back to bury in her soft hair, tilting her head slightly to deepen their kiss. Her body fit itself against his like it had been designed specifically for his form. And pressing her against the hard wall of the building, he could admit, if only to himself, that no other woman had ever came close to satisfying him the way this one did. And he'd only barely touched her.

"Dave! Jayje!" both agents heard Morgan call out as he rounded the corner of the building, the simple words barely registering through their kiss-induced haze.

Abruptly stopping as he noticed the intimate embrace the pair seemed to be engaged in, Derek turned sharply, shifting his eyes toward the back door. "Shit! I-I'm sorry, guys. Hotch and Gideon want to see you both."

Feeling her bury her burning face in the crook of Dave's neck as embarrassment apparently flooded her body, Dave ordered gruffly, "Tell them we'll be there in a minute."

"On it," Derek nodded without turning around, quickly retreating back around the side of the building.

Glancing down at the woman nestled against him, Dave whispered, sliding a gentle hand against her flushed cheek, "You okay?"

Nodding against his neck, JJ swallowed, wondering how she had managed to feel such a gamut of emotions in such a short amount of time. "He'll never let me hear the end of this," she groaned ruefully.

"Morgan won't say a damned word if he wants to continue walking and talking," Dave growled, feeling his hackles rise at the mere suggestion that the other man would dare make her uncomfortable. Especially now.

"We'd better go see what they want," JJ sighed, finally slowly separating herself from Dave's arms. "I'm sorry about that," she whispered, averting her eyes suddenly, unwilling to meet his eyes, afraid of what she might see.

"I'm not," Dave stated flatly, his words simple but sure.

"What?" JJ asked, looking up at him with surprised eyes.

"I said that I'm not sorry about what happened. But that's a topic we'll discuss later. For now, let's go see what the team wants," Dave told her gently, placing a gentle hand on her back and urging her down the narrow alley.

Nodding, JJ obeyed mindlessly, willing to concede the issue if only for the moment. God knew she needed time to process what had just occurred between them. "Okay, Dave."

Guiding her back into the station, Dave murmured, spotting Derek at the coffee machine, "Go on in, Jen. I wanna grab us a cup of coffee." Waiting until the younger woman had nodded and walked ahead into their makeshift war room, Dave ambled toward the younger profiler.

Meeting Rossi's eyes as he turned toward the back office, Morgan grinned. "You dog."

Not even bothering to parse his words, Dave said evenly, "Listen to me very carefully, Morgan. You never saw a damned thing. Understand?"

"Saw what?" Morgan asked innocently, watching Dave's face become thunderous. Holding up his free hand in supplication, Morgan shook his head. "Hey, your secret's safe with me. And for the record, if you hurt her, I'm kicking your ass up and down Main Street of this fine town."

"You don't need to worry, Derek," Dave said quietly, calmly pouring two cups of coffee. "Just keep your mouth shut."

"Will do, Chief," Morgan agreed amiably, following the other man into the office where the team had gathered.


	47. Chapter 46

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Six**

Sliding the steaming cup of coffee in front of JJ, Dave slid into the seat beside her, shooting Aaron Hotchner a warning glare as he did. He hoped his look spoke volumes. One more push at the small woman beside him and he couldn't deny that he was going to end up taking a swing at someone.

No matter what anyone thought, Dave knew that it was too much too fast. For any other witness, he knew he'd be shrugging his shoulders, chalking all their collective actions up to the rigors of chasing a violent unsub. But this was JJ, for Christ's sake. Their colleague. Their friend. Damn them all for not remembering that.

"Drink it, Jen. You need the caffeine jolt. Otherwise, you're going back to the motel to lie down," he said softly but firmly, draping an arm over the back of her chair and nodding determinedly at the dark brew in front of her.

Picking up the cup with numb fingers, JJ took a slow slip of the incredibly bad coffee. God, what she wouldn't give for a Starbucks right now. But the familiar green store seemed a thousand miles away. She'd forgotten so many things about living in a small town. The least of which was how terribly difficult it was to find a decent cup of coffee. And God forbid she should even think of an espresso or something that couldn't be strained through a cheap filter. Clearing her throat as she reined in her thoughts, she met their Unit Chief's eyes across the table. "What did you want to see me about, Hotch?" she asked hoarsely, forcing herself to take another pull off the cup as she felt Dave's concerned gaze lingering on her.

Ignoring Dave's warning glare, Hotch looked at his youngest with darkly apologetic eyes. "You know, JJ," he said softly, "that nobody in this room wants to see you in any more pain than you've already endured, don't you?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, JJ forced herself to nod in agreement, acknowledging the words as much as she emotion behind them. And it was true. These people, they had become every bit as much a family as she, Lacy, her mother and daddy had been. She knew that they hated this on a visceral level, their inability to stop the continual violence hurting them as much as her. And she also knew that in order to do the job they came here to do, for her, that they had to have cooperation, especially hers. Whispering, she admitted, "I'm sorry I overreacted."

Smiling grimly, Hotch shook his head, lifting one finger from the desk to still Dave's already opening mouth. "That wasn't overreacting, JJ. Overreacting was when I was pummeling George Foyet's dead body. I should have handled our request more tactfully. I apologize for that. But the fact remains, that even if you and your father don't agree to exhume Lacy's body, Ducky is still going to want to examine our unsub's other victims."

Stiffening, JJ nodded again, comforted as she felt Dave's large warm hand settle against the back of her neck. Pushing into his touch, she let herself feel his warmth, draw some of his strength. Clearing her throat, JJ blinked rapidly to clear the tears suddenly clouding her eyes before saying, "Daddy and I were both caught off guard, Hotch. If Dr. Mallard can give Daddy a justifiable reason for needing to examine Lacy, he'll allow it. He wants this man brought to justice just as desperately as I do."

"We all want the same thing, JJ. Finding this unsub before he kills again is our primary objective," Hotch nodded, remembering thinking those very words before, visions of George Foyet dancing in his head. Taking a sip of his coffee, Hotch slowly looked between JJ and Rossi, carefully measuring the level of tension hanging in the air. "Which brings me to my next point. We've all been talking," he said, looking around the room at the determined faces of his colleagues, "and I think it's time we break the team into two segments."

"Wh-what?" JJ asked uncertainly, flashing Dave a questioning look, searching for his previous knowledge of the situation. Seeing him shrug his shoulders slightly and frown darkly at Hotch, JJ turned her attention back to the Unit Chief, hoping the man had a strong premise for this particular argument. Otherwise, she had a feeling that David just might start using their leader for close-range target practice.

"We need a team to go back to Kentucky, JJ," Hotch explained, dropping his hands to his lap as he shifted in his chair. "We need to talk to everyone left involved with the original case. Gain permission for the exhumation of the unsub's other original victims." Pausing for a moment, he cocked his head as he added, "And I think you need to be there. Maybe returning to the scene will help release some of your memories."

"You want me to go back?" JJ said faintly, staring blankly across the table at her boss.

"If you'll agree to it," Hotch nodded.

"How soon?" JJ asked in a hoarse whisper, unconsciously reaching for Dave's hand underneath the table. Drawing a deep breath, she felt her chilled fingers immediately encased in his strong sure grip. The very thought of returning to the state that had claimed her sister was daunting at best, considering that she had never entered the limits of her hometown since her father had resettled their entire family up North. Their case load had rarely taken them to Kentucky, the case they had in Louisville a year ago classified as a rarity for that area. Finally, she said, voice strained, "I can't go alone."

"You won't be," Dave stated firmly exchanging a meaningful look with Aaron, his unspoken threat readable without any interpretation. His intentions were clear when it came to protecting this woman, and he had no intentions of leaving her alone, whether it be on either side of the Mason-Dixon line.

"No, you won't," Hotch affirmed quickly, nodding in Rossi's direction. "I want Rossi and Gideon to accompany you. And I've already gained the sheriff's approval for Deputy Fortner to go along as well."

"When?" JJ asked again, glancing around the packed table as she caught the concerned looks of her team mates. Feeling the slight wisp of air against her cheek, she shifted closer to Rossi as the heating system fought to keep up with the outdoor temperatures.

"We'd like you to leave by tomorrow afternoon, JJ." Looking around, Hotch added, "We all know that this unsub will eventually feel the compulsion to kill again. And I think we can all agree that it will be soon. We need as many answers as we can gain as quickly as we can get them."

"That soon," JJ said shakily, hating how her voice trembled. She honestly hated how weak she was feeling, having prided herself on her strength under duress. Straightening in her seat, JJ licked her suddenly dry lips, before saying haltingly, "You know, if Dr. Mallard gains my father's approval to…to…"

"You don't need to say it, JJ," Gideon said softly from the corner of the room, speaking for the first time since Hotch had started the impromptu meeting. "We know what you're talking about."

Nodding, JJ whispered, staring down at the table, fingering a small dent in the wood, "He'll want to be there."

"What do you want, Jayje?" Emily asked quietly from her position seated next to Hotch. Leaning forward, she waited until her friend met her eyes before she added, "You have a say here, too."

"I want whatever Daddy feels comfortable with. This will be hard enough on him without having to argue with us over every detail," JJ replied, looking from Emily's compassionate face to Hotch's intelligent gaze.

"That's understandable," Hotch nodded, making a quick note on his legal pad. "And we can make accommodations for that. Perhaps, his friend, Mr. Gibbs would be willing to travel with you all for emotional support. He seems to have a way with your father."

"They've endured a lot together," JJ replied neutrally, unwilling to share the history of her father's friendship, wanting to keep something private in a world that had seemingly become an open book overnight. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to excuse myself for a minute," JJ said, abruptly pushing her chair back from the table, the sound of the metal edges scraping against the tile echoing in the room.

Immediately rising to follow her, Hotch's voice abruptly stopped Dave in his tracks.

"Dave, we still need to talk," Hotch said firmly, his words even but adamant.

Rising from her seat quickly, Emily looked at the elder profiler and saw the irritation blanketing his face. "Dave, let Garcia and I go. She might need a softer touch right now, okay?" Emily urged gently, hoping that she could forestall a potential explosion. The last thing JJ, or any of them, needed was for an internal fight to distract their focus from solving the case.

Face tightening, Dave clenched one fist against his leg as he looked toward the empty doorway JJ had fled through. "Go," he demanded forcefully. "But if she…"

"One of us will get you if we need to," Garcia said quickly, moving toward the door with a burst of speed, followed in short order by Prentiss.

Waiting until the door had closed behind Prentiss, Gideon looked at Dave. Cocking an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair, he asked, calmly, "How is she?"

"How the fuck do you think she is?" Rossi retorted angrily, wheeling to face his former partner.


	48. Chapter 47

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

"How the fuck do you think she is?" Rossi retorted angrily, glaring at the other man as he slammed his hand down loudly against the ancient table. "Her world's been turned upside down and you people just keep piling more on top of her. Not exactly a recipe for success, is it?"

"And if she were any other person, you'd be doing exactly the same thing, Dave," Hotch pointed out calmly with a direct stare at the older man, not couching his words. "We're not doing anything unusual and you know it. You might not admit it, but you know it."

"Not to speak out of turn," Morgan offered from his position at the other end of the long table, leaning forward, "but, I'm actually with Rossi on this one. Don't you guys think you've laid it a bit thick on Jayje today?"

"We're running out of time, Morgan," Hotch sighed, turning to meet his profiler's gaze. "You both know that as well as I do. I care about JJ, too, but at the end of the day, our mission is to apprehend this unsub before he devolves into a killing spree."

"You can do that without breaking Jennifer," Rossi said dangerously, clenching his fist by his side as he remembered her haunted face.

Sighing deeply, Gideon groaned, loudly, "Will you please start acting like a fucking profiler, Old Man. This is the job. It sucks. But it's the job, man."

"Refer to JJ as a job one more time and they'll need a search party to locate the pieces of your jaw, Jason," Dave bit out, eyes glittering as he swung his lethal stare toward Gideon.

"That isn't what I fucking meant, asshole," Gideon retorted, meeting his gaze head on. "But anytime you feel like it, make a move," he dared, cocking a brow as he held his position, knowing that he was deliberately baiting the irate man.

"Knock it off! Both of you!" Hotch ordered sternly, looking between his two one-time mentors, wondering for a moment which one of them would win in a full-blown fight. "This sure as hell isn't going to help JJ or anybody else. We're on the same side."

"Hell," Morgan chuckled, leaning back in his seat as he propped his hands behind his head, "I kinda wanted to see how that one played out, Hotch."

"No, I assure you, you don't," Hotch returned, his voice hard and clipped, his jaw clenching at the thought. "It's messy and painful to watch."

"Look," Gideon muttered finally, throwing up his hands in the air, "all I want to know is if she's stable enough to withstand a regression tonight?"

"You still wanna do it tonight?" Dave asked incredulously, looking from Gideon to Hotch with wide eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Morgan muttered, watching as Dave's body seemed to coil, ready to strike the first man brave enough to venture into his range.

"We do," Hotch nodded simply, never wavering. "If she can take it," he added gravely, conceding to the fragileness of JJ's emotions. But then he added, shaking his head, "Dave, we're nowhere on this case. We need something."

"You've got the fucking doctor!" Rossi exploded, throwing his hands up as he paced from side to side, his footsteps snapping in the quiet room.

"And once the NCIS agents arrive, we'll question him. But right now, it looks like a bunch of circumstantial evidence. We need something concrete, damn it. Something tangible," Hotch argued convincingly, his points salient and relevant.

Watching the situation rapidly escalating out of control, Reid leaned quietly forward. "I have a suggestion," he said quietly, almost hesitantly. "That is, if anyone is interested in hearing it," he said, looking around the room with wide eyes, gauging the responses of the other men.

"That depends," Dave replied, forcing his voice to lower as he spoke to the young genius, knowing that the man was important to JJ. "Do you have JJ's best interest at heart?"

"I believe I do," Reid said nervously, nodding rapidly as he swallowed tightly. "But, I'm also considering our case."

"Talk, youngster," Morgan said, bobbing his head at Reid. "Maybe you'll be able to inject a little bit of sanity into this room."

Nodding, Reid swallowed again as he found his voice, addressing the group at large. "Based on the fact that JJ told me this morning that she was determined to see this case through, I know she wants to do everything she can to help us. I suggest we wait for the NCIS team to arrive before doing anything. At most, it should only be a couple of more hours," he murmured, glancing at his watch. "I've been reading up on Agent Gibbs and his team. Dr. Mallard is still a physician in good standing with the AMA as well as a renowned medical examiner. He also is trained in the art of a psychological autopsy. All things that will serve us well on this case. I think you should include Dr. Mallard in JJ's regression sessions. That way, we know if there are any problems, you have an additional person trained to deal with any repercussions, be they emotional or physical."

"That makes sense," Dave nodded, relaxing slightly as he dropped his hands into his pockets, his footsteps slowing as he ruminated on the possibilities. Anything that would add additional protection for JJ's physical and emotional health had to be a positive, didn't it?

"I agree," Gideon rumbled from the corner, leaning back in his chair again as he considered the options from his one time protégé.

"Also," Spence murmured, darting an anxious look in Rossi's direction, wondering if he dared to press his luck, "I have another suggestion."

"Go ahead, Reid," Dave sighed, pulling his chair back again and dropping tiredly into it, his legs appreciating the rest for the moment.

"Based on the information I've read, Agent Gibbs had a distinctly unique way of interrogating suspects. And more often than not, he's successful at ascertaining the truth in a limited amount of time. Based on my research, he has an accuracy of approximately ninety-eight percent. I believe he would be the most effective at questioning the doctor."

"Jethro's good," Dave nodded at the young genius' suggestion. "Between the two of us…"

"No, sir," Reid said, shaking his head as he widened his eyes. "I think I should finish. I don't think you should be there, Agent Rossi."

"The hell you say," Dave growled, rest forgotten as he jerked forward, staring daggers across the table. Questioning their suspect was second on his list of most important items, right after ensuring that JJ was not overly taxed from the entire situation.

"Let him finish, Dave," Hotch murmured, stalling what he knew was a coming argument. If the past few years had taught him anything, it was to trust Spencer Reid when it came to applying statistical knowledge to the profiles of their suspects and their team. And any insight they could use to gain the upper hand would only be beneficial.

"Agent Rossi, if I can be blunt, you're too closely involved…too invested to question the suspect. Both of you are," Reid said, glancing toward Gideon, including him in his comments. "If Dr. Beaumont is the unsub…that might give him an advantage. I've researched him as well. He's brilliant. He has an IQ that rivals mine, hence his inability to communicate effectively with others. He'll have the ability to use your emotions against you. Allow Agent Gibbs and Hotch or Morgan to approach him. It will throw him off balance. He hasn't had any dealings with them yet. He won't have had time to judge their reactions."

"He's got a point," Jason murmured reluctantly, his first encounter with the local doctor coming back to mind. A repeat of that situation would not advance their case and could possibly hinder their further advances.

"He does," Rossi agreed, meeting Jason's eyes as he realized the validity of the statement. Turning back to Reid, Rossi nodded once. "You're right, kid. Good catch."

"Then, it's decided. While the rest of you travel to Kentucky, Agent Gibbs will take point on the interrogation. If he's willing, that is," Hotch nodded also, watching out of the corner of his eye as Spencer Reid flushed slightly from the slight praise.

"Oh, he'll be willing," Dave smiled grimly, pressing his palms against the table as he remembered the man's tenacity. "Jethro lives his life in pursuit of the truth. He'll ferret it out."


	49. Chapter 48

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

Looking up from the old cracked porcelain sink into the dirty mirror on the wall, JJ winced as she got a look at her pale pinched face. Twisting the faucet, she cupped her hands beneath the spray and splashed her face, hoping the frigid water would return some color to her ashen cheeks. But she had a feeling that was indeed wishful thinking, knowing that until the situation completely changed, she would probably have to learn to cover the paleness in many different ways.

"Gumdrop?" Penelope called out, slowing pushing open the heavy wood door of the antiquated restroom, the hinges creaking loudly. "You in here?"

"I'm here, Garcia," JJ replied, reaching for a cheap brown towel from the dispenser and grimacing as the rough material scratched at her face. Like any small town government office, comfort gave way to economy, in every area.

Walking into the bathroom, followed closely by Emily, Garcia frowned as she got a good look at her best friend. Sighing, Penelope shook her head. "You look like death warmed over, Jayje," she worried aloud, her well-defined eyes widening even more than usual.

"Way to make her feel good about herself, Garcia," Emily murmured from behind her, slipping closer to her friend as she entered the small, cramped room.

"Well, she's got eyes. She can see," Garcia retorted defensively, waving a hand in JJ's direction. "I say we pack our party up and go home, Peaches," she said with a concerned look at JJ. "You, me, your dad…deserted desert island? Sound good?"

Laughing despite herself at Garcia's theatrics, JJ slowly shook her head as she dropped the crumpled towel into an overflowing trash can. "Doesn't quite work that way, Garcia."

"Well," Garcia said over her shoulder to Emily, "I tried. Your turn, Princess!" she chirped.

Snorting, Emily eased around the technical analyst. "How you doing, JJ?" Emily asked seriously, her eyes zoned in on the younger agent, cataloguing the physical reactions.

"Well, other than the fact that my past seems to be falling on me like an avalanche, just fine," JJ said with a fake cheery smile. "And you?" JJ drawled, turning to perch against the ceramic sink.

Leaning against the cement block wall, Emily decided to play along, knowing her friend needed a distraction. "Weeellll, let's see. I'm still head over heels for a man that's half in the grave with his dead ex-wife…soooo….I guess you could say things are par for the course. Garcia?" Emily prompted, turning her head at the exuberant tech they all loved.

"Oh, me?" Garcia asked, pressing her fingertips to her breast as she wriggled her eyebrows. "Oh just the norm, girls. Still making Derek Morgan pay for his mistake of epic proportion and relishing every single second of it."

"Soooo," JJ drawled, looking around at her friends as she burst out laughing, the sound surprising even herself, "Just a normal day at the office, huh?"

"Not so very normal, my brave little friend," Garcia teased. "What's goin' on between you and the legendary SuperAgent out there?" she asked, jerking her head toward the door. "Rossi's doing a very impressive imitation of a Doberman guarding his favorite bone right now. What's all that about, Gumdrop?"

"I'd like to know all about that, too," Emily said, turning to grin and wink at JJ. "David Rossi is notoriously impersonal…and it appears that things have gotten very up close and personal between the two of you. What gives?"

"Yes," Garcia nodded in agreement, adding, "Methinks I detecteth some flying sparks."

Ignoring the way her lips still burned from their kiss outside, JJ shook her head, turning toward the mirror again and frowning at the way her formerly pale cheeks suddenly burned. "You guys are way off base."

"Your lips say no, but those rosy cheeks scream yes," Penelope accused good naturedly, wagging a finger in her direction.

"Crap," JJ muttered, her lips pursing at the thought.

Eyes widening at the slight expletive, Garcia sniffed the air. "Do you smell that, Emily?"

"What?" Em chuckled, following the technical genius' lead.

"The pungent aroma of avoidance," Garcia replied with a pointed look at JJ.

"I'd start talking, JJ," Emily grinned, arching one eyebrow as she gestured toward Penelope. "You know she'll only dig until she finds the answers that she wants."

"Good luck with that," JJ murmured, sweeping one side of her long hair behind her ear as she tried to regain some semblance of balance. "I don't even have the answers."

"But you agree there are questions?" Pen grinned, winking at the blonde as she shifted nervously under her gaze.

"I've got questions," JJ admitted quietly, staring at her reflection in the mirror, the scratched silver backing causing her image to appear wavy at times . Shooting her eyes toward the girls' reflections, she nodded, "Lots of questions."

"Like?" Penelope prodded, none too gently.

"Like why is he the only man in the world that can make me feel safe despite the big invisible X on my back," JJ muttered, dropping her hands down to grip the edge of the sink, needing some form of stability now that she had spoken those words aloud.

"Well," Emily drawled, crossing her ankles as she settled against the unforgiving wall, "Maybe it was because he was the first one to get to you all those years ago. It would be natural to trust him instinctively."

"Do you have the same feeling about Gideon?" Garcia asked with a quirked brow, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"No," JJ shook her head, shivering distastefully as she grimaced at that thought. Never in her entire life had she placed Jason Gideon in the same category as David Rossi. "Not like Dave. I mean, I trust Gideon with my life and my psyche, but…"

"But nothing like what you feel with Rossi?" Emily generously supplied for her, nodding encouragingly.

"How close have you two gotten?" Garcia asked, twirling one of her curls around a finger as she leaned against one of the sinks in the old bathroom.

"We slept together," JJ sighed, feeling the air leave her chest as she remembered waking up in his arms, the feeling of security that simple act had given her.

"WHAT?" both of her friends virtually shouted, the one simple word echoing around the tiled restroom.

"Not like THAT," JJ scoffed, rolling her eyes as she shook her head, turning to face them both. "Seriously, guys, minds OUT of the gutter."

"Well," Pen huffed, frowning toward her friend, "the way you said it…"

"Okay, okay," JJ shushed her, knowing that if given the chance, Penelope Garcia would take a full hour to explain to her the errors of her ways. "He held me while I slept. And I actually slept. No nightmares."

"So holding…anything else," Garcia asked suspiciously, propping her hands on her hips as she eyed a blushing JJ.

"Errr…," JJ said uncomfortably, also knowing that Garcia was as tenacious as a bulldog when she wanted information that someone, namely her, was withholding.

"You don't have to say anything, Jayje," Emily said gently, counteracting Garcia's commands.

"Oh, yes she does," Garcia retorted, flashing Emily a dirty look. "I want the details even if you don't."

"It was nothing…just a kiss," JJ murmured, looking away, almost unable to put the entire situation into words, to simplify her feelings into something that could be explained.

"You kissed?" Garcia said happily, clapping brightly. "See, they kissed," she said smugly to Emily. "My radar ISN'T on the fritz, is it?" Turning back to JJ, Garcia informed her with a smirk, "Emily thought I was crazy when I told her that love was in the air!" Leaning forward, Garcia mock whispered "Tell your lucky Penny, is he as good as what the rumor purports?"

"Oh, God," JJ moaned, lifting her head to glare at the ceiling, trying to remember to breathe. "Why did I have to make friends with the loudmouth tech all those years ago?"

"Because, peaches, you know I've got your back," Garcia said sweetly. "You want me to dig up all the dirt on him?"

"No!" JJ gasped, turning incredulous eyes on her friend as she stated emphatically, "I do not!"

"Oh, come on, gumdrop, I've gotta make sure he's good enough for you," Pen whined, turning wide eyes on JJ, her fingers already itching to tap her way into the life and times of David Rossi.

"I don't even know if he wants me," JJ retorted, although she knew that was a lie. She'd seen the banked fire in the older man's gaze when he'd looked at her on more than one occasion. David Rossi was very definitely interested.

But interested in what and how much, she wasn't entirely sure.


	50. Chapter 49

******Author's Note: Please, readers, review! Let us know what you're thinking.**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

Following her friends out of the antiquated bathroom a few minutes later, JJ's heartbeat accelerated as she found Dave casually leaning against the wall of Sushine's small police station, hands in his pockets, talking quietly to one of the deputies at the dispatch station.

Smiling at Emily and Garcia as they wandered back to their makeshift work stations, JJ felt Dave's gaze settle on her as she moved forward. Nodding to the deputy, an obvious dismissal, he turned to greet her.

"Hey, Hotch broke the team for the evening. Said he thought you might need a couple of hours to decompress before the regression this evening," Dave rumbled, reaching for the coat he'd grabbed from the back of her chair in the war room. "Let's get out of here," he ordered gruffly, holding it up for her.

Sliding her arms automatically inside the heavy wool overcoat, JJ frowned as she glanced up at his dark face. "He didn't want to go ahead and get the regression underway? I thought he was anxious to get some concrete leads."

"He is," Dave nodded, helping slide the material over her shoulders as she turned to face him again, his fingers smoothing down her arms. "But we collectively decided to err on the side of caution and wait for Dr. Mallard. Gideon and I felt it wouldn't hurt to have a trained medical professional there for it. We both know that these kinds of sessions can be traumatic and neither of us feels comfortable taking any risks."

"Translated, you demanded they wait for a doctor before going fishing in my psyche," JJ replied ruefully, raising one eyebrow as she let out a deep sigh. Meeting his eyes with a steady gaze, she added determinedly, straightening her shoulders, "I'll be fine, Dave. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"And I will be to…as soon as the good doctor arrives," Dave stated evenly, meeting her gaze without wavering, his intentions clear. Nothing was going to stand between him and keeping this fragile woman safe, time and schedules be damned.

Shrugging, JJ added, innocently, "If getting a doctor here is the only holdup, I'm sure we could persuade Dr. Beaumont to…"

"No," Dave declared flatly, stiffening at the mention of the coroner's name.

"Why the hell not not?" JJ asked impatiently, tilting her head to the side as they walked down the grey hallway. "We could get this thing underway, Dave."

"I don't have a history with Beaumont," Dave replied evasively, dodging the facts that she was not aware of, unwilling to burden her with additional worries. "I do with Ducky. And I trust Gibbs and his team. At the moment, we can't afford to include too many outsiders in this operation. It's only a couple of hours, Jen. Less now, even," Dave said, pointedly glancing at his watch, hoping that his estimates were true.

"I still don't see why-," JJ began again, lips tightening as Dave cut her off once more.

"Jen, honey, just go with me on this one, okay? We wait for Ducky," Dave returned implacably, his tone brooking no argument.

"This is ridiculous," JJ grumbled under her breath, walking through the glass door as Dave held it open for her. The cool air assaulted her senses again, and she subconsciously pulled her jacket tighter around her, trying to create a barrier against the elements. "Where are we doing this anyway?"

"In your room at the hotel. Gideon said you might be exhausted afterward and I didn't want you to have to try and move anywhere afterward," Dave answered easily, sparing her a quick look as he fished in his pocket for the keys to the black government issue SUV they'd been assigned.

"Fine," JJ sighed, crawling into the passenger seat as Dave slammed her car door. Her fingers wrapped around the metal of the buckle, sliding it into place as she leaned her head back against the leather. For a moment, she once again felt the immeasurable weight settling on her shoulders, weighting her down, pressing her down. But then, she heard his door open, and the heaviness pulled away, hovering just out of reach.

Waiting until he was behind the wheel, JJ asked, softly, trying to get her bearings, "So what now?"

"Hungry?" Dave asked, cocking his head at her, narrowing his eyes as he watched her roll her shoulders, trying to release whatever kinks that had settled.

"No," JJ groaned, tilting her head from side to side, hearing the bones pop loudly in her neck.

"Jen-," Dave began warningly, unwilling to let her starve herself out of worry, knowing that her body needed fuel if she was going to survive the coming days. And she might not realize it now, but he was not above force-feeding her if it came to such a measure.

"Dave, really…I'm not hungry and I'm too nervous to eat right now, okay?" JJ explained quickly, meeting his eyes, trying to honestly convey her thoughts to him.

Tightening his lips, Dave nodded tersely. In addition to everything else they were facing, he certainly didn't want her to make herself ill. Especially when she was determined to undergo the upcoming session with Jason. "Fine," he conceded finally, slamming the key in the ignition. "But you're eating a hell of a breakfast in the morning."

Relieved she'd managed to escape an argument with the controlling man beside her, JJ simply nodded as she stared out the windshield. Watching as he started the truck, she heard him ask, "So what do you people do for fun in this town?"

"Not much," JJ chuckled, the thoughts of comparing slow-paced Sunshine with a booming metropolis bringing a smile to her face. "I haven't spent much time here since high school. And back then, if you didn't ride horses or enjoy the fine art of cow tipping, you had a pretty dull Friday night."

"Okay," Dave said slowly at that admission, turning out onto the town's only main road. "Tell me someplace you enjoyed going as a child," he ordered gently as the sunlight began to wane on the horizon.

"I always liked going to the old stable on Daddy's farm," JJ murmured, remembering many lazy afternoons stretched out on a bed of hay in an empty stall, simply reading and enjoying the peace and quiet, only the occasional whinny of a horse marring the silence. "It was so peaceful there. That or the pond. It was beautiful out there."

"Okay," Dave nodded, navigating a turn. "Tell me how to get there," he said quietly, hoping one of those locations would relax the tense beauty beside him.

"Dave, you don't need to do this. I'm okay," JJ replied softly, turning sideways in the seat to stare at his profile, wondering how she had become so lucky to have him in her life right then. So many men, strong or not, would have immediately ran for the hills under such pressure, but the entire situation had just seemed to make Dave's resolve stronger.

"Maybe I just want to see where Jennifer Jareau grew up," he returned easily, flashing a quick smile at her. "You never talk much about yourself. You've always been elusive that way."

"Not elusive," JJ shrugged, pointing to a county road to the right, a tall oak tree marking the corner. "Turn here," she ordered, remembering the landmark from years upon years ago. Going back to her previous thought, she continued, "It's just that other than the obvious drama of my early years, I had a fairly boring childhood."

"I hardly think anything about you could qualify as boring," Dave laughed, turning his head slightly to wink at her.

"Then you've made some false assumptions," JJ grinned slightly, feeling a warmth growing in the pit of her stomach at his attention. "I was the Sherriff's daughter. I wasn't really in a position to be a wild child."

"Oh, so you were a good girl then?" Dave teased, his grin widening. "A good girl that drank beer with her girlfriend down in the stables," he mused, remembering Anne Fortner's words at the diner.

"Well, I never said that I didn't attempt to be bad," JJ giggled, tucking her leg underneath her as she rubbed her fingers against the center console. "I just wasn't very good at it. Now, Annie, she was a lot better at teenage rebellion than I was."

"She seems like she could be quite a handful if provoked. Much like someone else I know," Dave chuckled, turning into the dirt road JJ indicated with a pointed finger.

Cocking a brow heavenward as she shifted in her seat to look at him, JJ murmured, wondering if she had completely missed the boat on this, "Interested? I could put in a good word for you with her, if you'd like." Her breath caught in her chest as she waited for his answer, the feeling of warmth having shifted to a weight of dread in those few seconds.

Shifting the SUV into park in front of the wooden stable, Dave turned to find JJ's impassive mask firmly in place. Trying to read the younger woman's eyes, Dave slowly reached out to unfasten JJ's seatbelt, his fingers lingering for a moment against her hip. "I think we both know that Anne's not the woman that's captured my interest, Jen."

Averting her eyes to avoid his penetrating eyes, JJ swallowed quickly, reaching for the door handle. "We'd better get moving if you want to see anything."

Allowing her to scramble out of the vehicle, Dave sighed, reaching for his own door handle. Damn, but this woman was going to fight him all the way down the line. Watching as she headed for a cut out path through the woods, he followed, allowing her some distance. The last thing he wanted to do was back her into a position she wasn't ready to be in, but she deserved to know the status quo.

"Looks like someone still uses this path," Dave remarked, pushing aside a branch as he walked behind her, careful to keep her in his sight at all times.

"Oh, yeah," JJ smiled over her shoulder, drawing in a deep breath as the cool air mixed with the smell of the woods. "Daddy and Mr. Gibbs still come back here to go cat fishing."

Finally breaking into a small clearing, Dave could immediately understand why JJ had chosen this place as one of her sanctuaries. Clear blue water and completely surrounded on all sides by trees, the perfect wall against nature and the rest of the world. "You were right," Dave murmured, coming to stand beside her as she dropped to sit cross-legged on the ground, "It's beautiful here."

Even though it had been over a year since she had retreated to this specific area, she felt herself already at home, the familiarity wrapping her like a soft blanket. Nodding, JJ added, "And quiet. I was always able to think clearly out here."

"Don't get much opportunity to find that in the city, do you?" Dave asked, dropping to the ground beside her, not pushing his luck yet, keeping an inch between them as he allowed her time to regain her equilibrium.

"No, not much," JJ sighed, his nearness almost electric. Reaching out to pluck a small weed, she twisted it in her fingers as she whispered, "This is the one part of small town life that I liked. The wide open spaces…the country air."

She'd love Little Creek, he thought silently, watching her profile as she stared out at the water. Sitting in silence for several minutes as she watched the birds flying overhead and the water ripple in the pond as the wind gusted, mindlessly plucking blades of grass long dead from the cold winter, Dave finally cleared his throat. "You about ready to talk about what's happening between us yet, Jen?"

Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as she kept her face turned away from him, she finally softly replied, "How do you know there is something happening?"

"Honey, you don't do stupid very well…and you're too damned smart to try being coy. You've felt something, too, Jen. And I think we're both old enough to recognize the signs of what's developing between us," Dave said firmly, though his voice was gentle. Leaning back, he propped up on one hand as he waited for her answer.

"I've felt it, too," JJ admitted, bending her head to stare at her hands, nervously baring a patch of hard earth with her busy fingers. Forcing herself to stop, she whispered, "But we both know that the middle of a crisis isn't the best place to try to start something. And I don't know if now is the time to try and have any kind of meaningful discussion."

"I'll give you that," Dave said, inclining his head at her soft words, recognizing the dangers they would be facing.. "And since I've waited years to find a woman genuinely interested in something more than what I can offer her, I suppose I could try to teach myself to be patient."

"That'll be a stretch," JJ teased suddenly, flashing him a small smile as she realized he wasn't going to push her, to make her deal with feelings she hadn't yet identified completely herself.

"You know me all too well," Dave said ruefully, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, the silky strands sliding through his touch. "Just answer this for me, Jen. You feel it, too, don't you?"

Swallowing tightly, JJ nodded, leaning slightly into his touch. "And it terrifies me," she confided quietly, her blue eyes meeting his finally, hoping that he would understand.

"Why?" Dave asked simply, needing to know what fears he'd be doing battle with, finding himself lost in the deep pools that were staring up at him.

"I don't…," JJ trailed off, searching for the right words. Clenching her hands, she began again, "I don't open up to people very easily. It's hard for me to….to let anyone in. After Lacy died, I sort of put a wall between myself and the rest of the world. I wanted to protect myself and the fewer people I allowed over the wall, the less people I stood to lose. That never changed over the years. It makes relationships…hard for me."

"That seems understandable," Dave nodded, pulling up to rest his elbows on his knees as he stared out over the water, absorbing her words. "But, JJ?" he said, leaning toward her to nudge her shoulder with his.

"Yeah?" she asked huskily, hesitantly.

"I think I ought to warn you…one way or another…I'll find my way around that damned barrier," Dave said with a confidence he hadn't felt in years. And in those seconds, sitting in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania, David Rossi was certain he had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Now, he just needed to find the son of a bitch trying to take her away from him.


	51. Chapter 50

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty**

With an arched brow, David Rossi watched JJ pace the small expanse of carpet in front of her double bed for the twentieth time in five minutes. Sighing, he knew he was going to need to act fast. For her to be this anxious before her session even got started wasn't going to help her or them find the answers they all needed. She needed to relax…and she needed to do it quickly.

As she made her twenty-first pass, Dave snagged her arm gently from his position perched on the side of her bed, tumbling her to a seated position beside him. Staring down at her flashing eyes, he wrapped his arm around her waist. "You have to stop before you burn a whole in the carpet with your tracks, Jen."

"I can't help it," JJ groaned, shooting a nervous glance toward her closed hotel room door. "I hate this feeling," she whispered, shaking her head as she felt her toes twitch again.

"Describe it," Dave urged, covering her knee with one heavy palm when she would have bolted upright again.

"I don't know how…the best word I can come up with would be foreboding. I know something is coming, I just don't know what," JJ muttered, twisting her fingers together nervously, drawing in a deep breath as she tried to regain some control

"I know I've said this before," Dave began, shifting her closer on the bed.

"Then don't say it again," JJ ordered sternly, casting him a quick hard look as she cut off his repetitive phrase. "I'm doing this. It's just butterflies. That's all. I'll be fine once we get started."

He strongly doubted that any of them would be fine by the time they were done here this evening, but he knew those weren't the words she needed to hear. She needed his reassurance. Dropping a gentle hand against the back of her neck, Dave tugged gently, urging her face to turn to face him. "You don't have to do this alone, Jen."

"I know," JJ said softly, trying to relax against his touch, trusting him. Except, she knew she would be…she'd be taking that walk through her memories all by herself and they both knew it. Dave might be able to help manage the fallout…but the horror…that would be all hers and her alone.

"If you don't relax, Babe, we both know this is gonna be that much harder," Dave reminded her gently, kneading the tense muscles in her neck.

Snorting, JJ rolled her eyes. She knew he meant well…that he had her best interests at heart, but still. "How exactly do you expect me to do that, Dave? Neither one of us knows what's coming…but I think we can both agree that it won't be good."

"No, but being a nervous wreck before you even begin the process will do nothing but make things harder," Dave stated firmly. "What you need is a distraction," he said quietly, watching her pale face clench again as she looked toward the door.

Humming noncommittally, JJ never saw Rossi's slow smirk before he tilted her head, covering her lips with his. Stiffening in surprise, JJ felt his surprisingly soft lips stroke hers, his tongue teasing the seam of her mouth as one strong arm slid around her, pulling her closer. Closing her mind off to everything but the feel of his lips caressing hers, JJ parted her lips, welcoming the stroke of his tongue against hers as his other hand buried in her long hair, massaging her scalp. Somewhere in the distant recesses of her mind, she knew she should stop this, but under his gentle ministration one thought overwhelmed all others. This…being in his arms…receiving his kisses…it all felt entirely, unbelievably right.

Feeling the woman beside him slowly collapse against his body, he never lost contact with her sweet mouth as he eased her backward against the mattress. Keeping his caresses light as he felt her tangle her arms around his neck, he felt her sigh into his mouth as her body relaxed by inches. Ghosting his hand up and down her side as his lips gently ate away at hers, he tried to ignore the slow desperation building inside his own body. Reminding himself that this was about her, not him, he forced himself to keep his kisses slow and unhurried, each touch designed to sooth her, to coax her away from that unseen precipice she'd been hovering on.

Convincing himself to finally pull away from her intoxicating taste became a task of monumental effort, one he was fairly certain he'd never experienced before with anyone. But after several long lazy heated minutes, he knew he was quickly reaching the end of his self-control. Her soft moan when he'd finally pulled his lips from hers almost broke his resolve. Dropping his head against her neck to press a gentle kiss to her throbbing pulse, Dave heard her inhale a shaky breath.

Lifting his head to again to stare down, he was pleased to find color in her cheeks again. Brushing a fingertip against her warm cheek, he whispered, "Feel better?" Seeing her mute nod as she stared up at him with wide eyes, he murmured, "Good. Mission accomplished." Helping her sit up beside him again, it was a moment before she spoke.

"We have got to stop doing that," JJ murmured, averting her eyes as she felt him settle beside her, his warmth easily seeping into her.

"Why?" he asked simply, running a hand up and down her fragile spine as he wished she'd look at him.

"Because it's going to make things more complicated," JJ replied unevenly, gripping his hand tightly when he covered hers with one of his, clutching desperately at his fingers.

"Things are already complicated, JJ," Dave said evenly, twining their fingers together. "And I'll be damned if I stop doing something we both find pleasurable. Especially if it means you get to relax, if only for a few moments."

Opening her mouth to reply as Dave's cell phone rang, she watched as he answered it, the fear rising again as the spell seemed to break. Snapping it shut a moment later, he looked at her. "They're here, Jen." Tightening his grip around her hand, he asked, calmly but firmly, "One more time, babe. Are you sure you want to do this? You have a choice. If you don't feel comfortable, I have no problem with the idea of telling Gideon to go to hell."

Smiling slightly, JJ personally thought he'd actually take a malicious glee in doing that very thing. "No. I'm doing this. Just don't go anywhere, okay?" She no longer had a qualm about letting him know her weaknesses, her absolute need for him to be her security blanket.

"Not a chance in hell of that happening, Jen," Dave murmured as a hollow knock echoed inside the small room. Glaring over his shoulder at the door, Dave asked one final time, "You're positive about this?"

Nodding, JJ took a deep calming breath, willing her body to relax. "Open the door, Dave."


	52. Chapter 51

**Author's Note: At long last guys, the introduction of Ducky and Gibbs to the story. Abby will be along shortly. Now, a little question. The next ten chapters ARE written and it's nowhere close to being a finished epic. Nowhere. Close. We've got some steamy chapters coming up for our supercouples, JJ/Rossi AND Hotch/Emily. BUT, what would you guys like to see? We're definitely open to opinions. And you guys are some of the most loyal readers out there! Thanks for taking the time to read (and review, if you choose to do so)! And please, give our other stories a look. Our personal ongoing fave, besides this one, is "Southern Traditions".**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-One**

Frowning out the small crowd of concerned faces standing outside JJ's door, Dave's eyes slowly slid over the group as Jason asked, evenly, "JJ ready?"

Nodding once, Dave took a step back and allowed the group to enter the room led by Jason Gideon.

Rising from the bed, JJ's eyes lit up as the last men entered through the door. "Gibbs!" JJ shouted, eyes rounding as she flew across the room, barreling toward the taller grey headed man.

Catching the tiny woman that had spent most of her adolescence tagging along behind he and Shannon, Leroy Jethro Gibbs grinned, tightening his arms around her protectively. "Been causing mischief again, Jenny?"

Shaking her head against his broad chest, JJ murmured, "You have no idea."

"Oh, I might," Jethro drawled easing the diminutive blonde away from him as he caught Rossi's glare. Smiling slowly, Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the other man.

"It's been a long time, Gibbs," Rossi said roughly, reluctantly extending a hand toward the NCIS agent.

"Not long enough," Gibbs retorted, shaking Dave's hand.

"Still holding grudges?" Dave asked with a raised eyebrow.

Shrugging, Gibbs dropped into one of the chairs at the small dining room table in the corner of the room, settling back easily. "She was an expensive woman."

"Tried to warn you…more than once if I remember correctly," Dave replied evenly, moving back to JJ's side.

"You could have been more persuasive," Gibbs retorted, eyes twinkling as he watched the way the other man dropped a casual hand to the tiny blonde's back.

"But then you wouldn't have learned your lesson," Dave chuckled, the laugh not quite reaching his eyes.

Shaking his head, Gibbs muttered, "Apparently I didn't. I tried it twice more anyway."

"Would it help if I apologized?" Rossi asked, fighting a grin, warming to the topic.

"No," Gibbs replied succinctly. "What you can do is tell Duck and me what the hell is going on," he said, jerking his head toward the older man standing unassumingly just inside the room.

"Later," Gideon said authoritatively, stepping into the fray. "We need to get started. JJ, this is Dr. Robert Mallard," Gideon explained, gesturing toward the short man. "You know who he is, right?"

Shaking the elderly doctor's hand as he moved forward, JJ nodded. "I do," she smiled warmly, letting herself rest slightly against the strong presence behind her. "Thank you for coming, Dr. Mallard."

"I wish I could say that it was a pleasure," Ducky replied gently, pressing both hands against the cold delicate hand, "but I do believe circumstances prohibit that social nicety. Instead I'll say that any friend of Gibbs, is one I'd be honored to have, dear. And, please, call me Ducky."

"We thought it would be a good idea to have a physician on hand tonight, JJ," Gideon explained, meeting JJ's eyes.

Nodding, JJ said softly, pulling in a deep breath, "Yes. Dave explained. Thank you for agreeing to do this, Ducky."

"Better safe than sorry, I always say," Ducky replied, his British accent pulling a smile from JJ's lips. "If you don't mind, my girl," Ducky said, lifting his quintessential black bag in front of him, "I'd like to take your pulse and blood pressure. It will allow me some baseline markers."

"Of course," JJ nodded, stepping away from Dave as she looked around the small room. "Where?"

"Let's just get you situated in the arm chair," Ducky said, lightly touching her arm and gesturing toward the chair beside the bed.

"Jen, we're all just gonna step outside for a minute," Rossi said then, exchanging a look with Jethro. Drawing his eyes back to her pale face, he added, calmly, as he glanced toward the older doctor. "I'm sure the doctor has some questions for you, don't you, doc?"

Nodding, Ducky turned to face Rossi. "It would be helpful for me to know a bit of medical history." Nodding gallantly toward JJ, he added, "With your permission, of course, Agent Jareau."

"JJ, please," JJ said politely, feeling a sudden kinship with the older distinguished man. "And it's fine."

Biting back an impatient howl, Gideon followed the other men outside, realizing that David Rossi had once again orchestrated an unconquerable coup.

"Quite a collection of worried men you've developed, m'dear," Ducky said, nodding toward the door as it closed behind Aaron Hotchner. "I don't know how many years it's been since been since I've seen Jethro move as quickly as he did this afternoon. I don't believe it's been since one of his OWN team was in danger. You must be very special to him."

"He was the older brother that I never wanted," JJ said with a genuine smile, settling back into the worn chair, letting herself relax for a moment in Ducky's comforting presence. Very few people could make her feel this way now, the doctor having joined a only three or four other people who had that skill.

"You knew his Shannon and Kelly then?" Ducky asked gently, wrapping her arm professionally in his black blood pressure cuff.

"I did," JJ said softly, nodding once, the mere thought of her friend's former family bringing another pain to her heart. "We thought we'd lose him after what happened. And I think we did…at least a part of him," JJ murmured with a soft look toward the door, feeling the Velcro wrap constrict around her arm. "He was never quite the same. Don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know, dear. I met our Jethro after his tragedy. I only recently learned of his daughter," Ducky confided, gently lifting JJ's arm to take her pulse.

Smiling gently, JJ shook her head, recognizing the tone in the doctor's voice. "Don't take it personally, Doctor. Gibbs has a hard talking about anything personal. He was always tightlipped. The most open I ever saw him was with Shannon…and after she died….I think a part of him did, too."

Raising a brow at those insightful words, Ducky said softly, knowingly, "Perhaps, a quality you might share with him, young Jennifer?"

"You see a lot, don't you, Doctor?" JJ replied, not bothering to deny the assumption, having already determined that Dr. Mallard had the unique ability to see far below the surface.

"Years of working with Jethro has forced me to become adept at the fine art of reading between the lines," Ducky chuckled, giving the young blonde one of his rare smiles. "Regardless, he made it abundantly clear without ever saying a word how important you were to him. You must be a very special young woman to have captured the loyalty of two such seasoned agents. The David Rossi I remember from years past didn't often let his emotions lead him. And based on appearances, he certainly didn't appreciate our Jethro's familiar greeting to you."

Eyes widening at the elderly doctor's analysis of the situation, JJ stuttered, leaning forward, "I-I'm sure you're imagining things, Ducky." Surely the doctor was mistaken. She hadn't noticed anything untoward when the two men had met, and she was well aware of their past.

"I'm equally certain that I'm not," Ducky smiled with a wink, squeezing her wrist reassuringly. "I'm sure his concerns will abate once he see's Jethro's interaction with our Abby though."

"Abby's here?" JJ laughed suddenly, happy to hear the name of the woman that had lightened Gibbs' mood in these past few years. Letting out a sigh of relief at that news, she also realized the truth behind the doctor's words. If she remembered correctly, no one could doubt Jethro's intentions when the vivacious lab technician was in his presence.

"Ah, yes. Abigail steadfastly refused to be left behind. You know her?" Ducky grinned, noting the change for the better in his young charge's condition as she discussed their mutual friends.

Nodding, JJ replied, letting herself relax again, "I've met her a few times. She's wonderful."

"Yes, she is," Ducky agreed quickly. "And she's exactly what this old doctor ordered for Agent Gibbs," Ducky whispered conspiratorially, wriggling an eyebrow as he kept his fingers on the small woman's wrist.

"Do I detect a bit of matchmaking, Ducky?" JJ asked with sparkling eyes, her grin growing by the moment.

"Maybe a smidge," Ducky murmured guiltily, gesturing with his thumb and forefinger as he placed her wrist on her leg, satisfied with her vitals. "But I've chosen to look at it as assisting fate with its natural course."

"A unique perspective," JJ giggled, thinking of the possible fireworks that would erupt if Jethro Gibbs and Abby Scuito ever realized the older man's' machinations.

"I will take that as a compliment. But I assume you approve with my mechanisms," Ducky chuckled, sitting back on the edge of the bed as he once again adjusted the blood pressure cup on her arm.

"I do, indeed," JJ nodded, feeling the squeezing begin again as the puffing pump began to do its job.

"Ah, then per chance I've found a partner in crime," Ducky suggested, smiling into her bright blue eyes, thinking that Agent Rossi might have met his own match in this young beauty.

"If it means that Gibbs finds happiness after all these years, I will definitely aide you in your nefarious plans," JJ nodded, feeling lighter and happier in that moment than she had in days.

"I believe this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, JJ," Ducky winked, glancing down at the digital readout on the machine, pleased to see the readings had increased to a more acceptable level.

"Where exactly did you all leave Abby?" JJ asked, relieved when Ducky removed the blood pressure cuff, placing it precisely back in his leather case, snapping it shut with a flourish.

"Ah, when last I saw our dear Abigail, she was making fast friends with your technical analyst. Kindred souls, I believe," Ducky sighed, dropping the bag to the floor as he shook his head, the memory of those two women flooding his mind. If ever there had been a case of opposites attracting, he would have thought it to be the bright blonde Penelope and the raven Gothic Abigail. But apparently, appearances were deceiving, considering the two women had immediately started speaking in a language that he could only liken to a cross between ancient Gaelic and something spoken by the Yemini tribes in Africa, clicks and bops abounding.

"Oh, God, between those two, they could take over the world, I think," JJ laughed, smiling widely as she thought of the damage that would occur if either of those two women ever decided to move to the dark side.

"Another incentive to bring a quick resolution to this case, don't you agree?" Ducky grinned, glancing toward the closed door as he realized the time had come to continue their mission for the evening.

"I do, Doctor," JJ nodded, feeling herself stiffen slightly against the worn chair as she followed the doctor's line of sight. She sighed then as she repeated, softly, "I do."


	53. Chapter 52

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

Standing out in the dreary hallway, which was years behind on its painting upgrades, Rossi leaned against the doorframe, wondering if he could hear any of the conversation occurring behind the door. Realizing that was an exercise in futility, he jerked away, pacing the small patch of worn carpet.

Jerking his head to the side, Gibbs asked, evenly, "You gonna keep that up for long?"

Not even bothering to look at the man that had married his first ex-wife, Rossi snapped out, "What does it matter to you if I do?"

Shrugging, Gibbs let a grin play on his lips as he said, "No skin off my back. Don't think the carpet can handle the abuse, though."

Looking down at his feet, Rossi muttered, sliding his leather sole against the poor excuse for floor covering, "Looks to me like the place could use an upgrade. All the way around. And they can start with sticking doors before they think about the carpet."

Cocking an eyebrow as he leaned back against the scuffed wall, Gibbs asked, "What did the doors do to you?"

"Not me," Rossi answered, raising his eyes to the NCIS agent's, shaking his head. "JJ. She got trapped in the bathroom earlier when the steam swelled the door shut."

From his position on the other side of Gibbs, Gideon added then, his voice calm, "Which may have worked to our advantage. It gave us another insight into her past, which…"

"Which scared the shit out of her," Rossi finished for him, glaring at both of the men equally. "And I'm not looking forward to a repeat, if you get my drift. The two times she's regressed already haven't exactly left her in a warm and fuzzy place."

Eyes narrowing at Rossi's obvious emotional attachment, Gibbs asked, slowly, glancing from man to man, "What exactly happens when Jenny does this?"

"We don't know for sure how she'll respond this time, considering we're going to purposefully regress her rather than allow her mind to slam her back without preparation," Gideon answered, leveling Rossi with a knowing look as he added, evenly, "And we all know this is necessary for the case. That is, if we want to find answers."

About to retort that he wasn't sure if it was necessary for JJ's sake, Rossi's words caught in his mouth as the door slipped open, the lined face of Ducky Mallard peeking around at them. Nodding once, Ducky said, "My dear boys, I believe we're ready now. Our Jennifer is awaiting your arrival."

"How is she, Duck?" Gibbs asked, following Rossi into the room.

"She's in fine health, Jethro, although she could definitely stand to gain a few pounds," Ducky said, throwing a gentle smile in the direction of the woman sitting comfortably in the side chair.

Skirting the bed, Rossi moved back to JJ's side. Dropping a heavy hand around her neck, he murmured, sweeping his fingers gently against her skin, "Duck said everything was fine."

"Good," JJ bobbed her head, "Maybe we can finally get started." Looking at Jason Gideon, JJ asked more calmly than she actually felt, "How do we start this, Gideon?"

"We start with you taking some deep breaths and relaxing," Gideon replied evenly, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. "Then we hypnotize you. You'll remember everything you're able to recall afterward, but in order to get to those recollections you have to be in a different state of consciousness."

Feeling Dave settle on the bed next to her chair, JJ took a deep breath as she took comfort in his nearness. Nodding at Gideon's words, JJ dropped her eyes closed and over the next several minutes allowed Jason's deep voice to lull her back to her childhood, to happier days when she had a constant shadow in the form of her baby sister. The dull, drab motel room faded into the distance, and she felt herself transplanted from her adopted hometown back to the farm where she and Lacy had chased rabbits and climbed trees, all in the innocence of childhood.

Dave and the other men watched and listened as Jason Gideon slowly navigated JJ back through the milestones of her childhood. From the day she'd graduated college, then high school, to her first school dance back to her first day of school, each man listened as her voice changed, watching as even her eyes seemed to regain the glow of childlike innocence. Holding his breath as he watched Jason calmly lead the woman he loved back to the day she'd been kidnapped, he found himself praying for the first time in more years than he could remember. He was more than willing to make a deal with the God he thought he'd forgotten if Jennifer could just escape this nightmare unscathed. Nothing was too great or too costly for that simple request.

"All right, JJ," Gideon said calmly, minutes later, his young charge finally in a different plane. "You and I are going to walk through another door now. Are you ready?" he asked gently, giving a slight nod to Dave, indicating that they were about to breach the memory of the day she and her sister had been taken.

"Uh huh," JJ bobbed her head excitedly, her eyes looking from side to side as she bounced her feet against the worn carpet. "What's behind this door?" she asked innocently, her voice so much like the little girl she once was. Drawing in a deep breath at that transformation, Dave felt himself back in that cabin with her, her tiny, damaged body cuddled close as her little girl voice begged him for help.

"When you push this door open, you'll be in your father's stable with Lacy," Gideon replied evenly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "It's going to be the day you were kidnapped. But nothing can hurt you, JJ. Just walk through the door."

JJ looked around the room vacantly, wide-eyed. "I don't like it here," she murmured hesitantly, her fingers clenching the wooden edge of the chair. "I wanna go back," she said, her words coming quickly as her voice shook with childlike fear.

"Why? What's happening, JJ?" Gideon asked, then added soothingly, "Remember, nothing can hurt you there. You're just watching."

"I just heard Lacy scream," JJ whispered breathlessly, sniffing deeply. "I'm supposed to be watching her," JJ said worriedly, her lips turning down.

"Go find her," Gideon urged gently, his voice low in the charged room.

"I'm trying!" JJ declared belligerently, stomping her foot against the carpet. "She's not with Thunder! Lacy! Lacy!" JJ yelled, her childish agitation evident. "Come out or I'm telling daddy!" she yelled.

Cringing, Dave watched as JJ moved her head from side to side, obviously looking for her sister in her mind's eye. Watching as JJ seemed to halt her movement suddenly, he heard Gideon prod, "What do you see, JJ?"

"I heard a noise in the empty stall," she said blankly, her head tilted to the side, blonde hair falling over her shoulder. "Ain't nothin' in there though."

"Are you sure? Are you going to look inside?" Gideon asked calmly.

"Lacy! She's on the ground and she's not moving," JJ said suddenly, her words high and panicked in the still room as she reached out her hands, clutching in the air. "Lacy, get up!" JJ ordered as her eyes filled with tears, her lashes fluttering rapidly against the change.

"JJ, is anyone in the stall with you?" Gideon asked in a low tone, his eyes glued to her face. "Turn around and look."

A moment later, JJ shrieked, the sound terrified, bouncing off the walls of the small room as all the men standing around her winced at the pallor of the young woman sitting in the chair.

"Jason!" Dave hissed, his hand outstretched as he began to move forward, jerking as Hotch caught his arm.

"He knows what he's doing, Dave," Hotch whispered, his eyes never wavering from JJ, now cowering in the chair, arm thrown up defensively in front of her. Feeling Dave stiffen beside him, Hotch added, heavily, "She's already there. Let her go on."

"JJ, what do you see?" Gideon said, his voice now authoritative and stern above JJ's screams.

"He's in a black mask," JJ cried out, the sound tearing out of her mouth. "I can't see him! But his hands are around my throat and he's squeezing," JJ gasped, clawing at her throat, her fingers trying to pull and push at the same time, trying to find the air that she knew was there just minutes earlier.

"Enough, Jason!" Dave growled angrily, watching JJ's nails tear at her throat.

"Can you see his hands, JJ? Are they white or black? Does he have on gloves?" Gideon asked, ignoring Dave's muttered curses as he struggled against Hotch's grip.

"Bare hands," JJ choked, gasping for breath, her throat tightening with every word. "White."

"Anything else, JJ?" Gideon asked urgently, his eyes unblinking. "Can you see anything else about him?"

Coughing as she gagged, JJ shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, her neck stiffening as she tried to pull away, to stop those phantom hands once again.

"Gideon, bring her out!" Gibbs ordered, lips tightening as he watched the girl he considered as close as a sister struggle against invisible hands.

"Damn you, Jason! Let her out of this nightmare!" Dave yelled angrily, pulling with all his might against Hotch's steel-grip.

"OPEN YOUR EYES, JJ!" Gideon ordered then, his tone imperative. "Tell me if you see anything else!"

Breathing heavily, JJ struggled to pull air into her lungs as she felt hands cruelly squeezing her neck. "Can't breathe!" she whimpered, the words slowly slipping out. "I can't breathe!" she wheezed.

"Damn you!" Dave yelled as Hotch finally released him. Grabbing Jason's arm, he shook the other man violently as he ordered, "Get her back! Now!"

"I must agree," Ducky declared worriedly, stepping toward JJ, his eyes narrowing. "Her lips are turning blue. The memory is too real."

"He has a green fork on his arm," JJ choked hoarsely, eyes popping open as the veins in her neck seemed to expand as she fought for oxygen. "Like Ariel's daddy!"

"Who?" Gibbs growled, looking around the room for clarification.

"The Little Mermaid," Hotch said quickly, memories clicking in his mind as he remembered watching the movie with Jack just last week. "Her father was a Merman. He carried a trident."

"On his arm, JJ?" Gideon questioned quickly.

Seeing the woman in front of him nod jerkily as she clawed at her neck, Gideon said quickly, "JJ we're going to walk out of this room now and close the door. Close your eyes. When I count to three, you're going to open your eyes and feel completely safe, yet remember everything."

"Can't breathe anymore," JJ said faintly, the past and the present fading into one large grey cloud as she struggled to pull a final breath into her constricted lungs.

"One. Two. Three," Gideon counted, watching as the younger woman suddenly seemed to go slack in her seat as Dave brushed past him, rushing forward as she pitched forward in her seat.


	54. Chapter 53

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Three**

Hurrying forward as JJ fell toward him, Dave caught her against his waist, growling over his shoulder, "Doc, get over here!" In all of his life, he didn't think he had felt fear like he was at this exact moment, his heart pounding as he held JJ's slumping body.

"I'm okay," JJ panted against Dave's shirt, turning her head so that her cheek pressed against his soft shirt, her fingers clutching weakly at his shirt. "Just hard to breath."

Crouching in front of her, Dave framed JJ's sweaty face with trembling hands, forcing her troubled eyes to his as Ducky reached for JJ's wrist.

"Tell me the truth," Dave ordered, his worried eyes traveling over her, searching for hidden signs, additional pain. "Do you hurt anywhere?"

"My throat," JJ rasped, nodding as she winced at the short words.

"Your pulse is racing, my dear," Ducky clucked, sliding his hand from her wrist to her clammy forehead. "Let's get you to lie down," he said, nodding toward the neatly made bed.

"No, I'm-," JJ began, only to stop suddenly as Dave swung her easily up in his arms.

"If the doctor says lie down, you lie down," Dave said implacably as JJ's wide-eyed gaze found his. "Look at her throat, Ducky," Dave ordered, motioning for the doctor to step closer.

Shaking her head, JJ tried to sit up only to feel herself pushed gently back down by two sets of hands this time. She knew the familiar touch of Dave's hand and looking to her right, she saw Gibb's leaning toward her, his hand gentle on her shoulder. "Come on, troublemaker," he urged quietly, his deep blue eyes brooking no argument, "Let Duck do his thing."

Watching as Gibbs eased back to allow Ducky to sit on the bed, JJ laced the fingers of her other hand with Dave's, clutching, needing the security his touch gave her at that moment. Her mind reeled with the flashing pictures of what she had just experienced, and she couldn't seem to regain control.

Quickly wrapping JJ's arm with his blood pressure cuff, Ducky took a reading, frowning slightly at the digital readout, pressing the button to start the machine once again.

"What's wrong?" Dave asked briskly, catching the worried look on the doctor's face, his thumb sliding comfortingly against JJ's tight hand.

"Her blood pressure and pulse are more elevated than I like," Ducky murmured, shaking his head as he raised his eyes. "Jennifer, dear, are you still having difficulty breathing?"

"A little," JJ panted as Dave propped another pillow behind her head, helping her prop up, pushing her forward just enough to catch her breath easier. Meeting his dark eyes, she rasped, "Tattoo...he had a tattoo on his forearm."

"We got it, sweetheart," Dave nodded, gently brushing her sweaty hair away from her face, frowning at the dilation of her pupils. "But right now we're not going to think about that. You're gonna concentrate on getting your breath back, okay?"

Biting her lower lip as she focused on pushing the air out of her chest, JJ whispered, "Thirsty."

"I'll get some water," Gideon said quickly as Dave looked over his shoulder. Handing a cool bottle over Rossi's shoulder a moment later, he murmured, "How is she?"

"How the hell do you THINK she is, you bastard," Dave growled, glowering back at the man that had caused this situation. "I told you to bring her out, damn you. She can barely breathe, you bastard!"

"Dave, stop," JJ murmured, feeling her heartbeat finally begin to slow as the pounding of her pulse in her ears lessened. "I'm okay," she whispered, reaching out for his tense arm, tugging at his sleeve. Her chest seemed to be looser at that moment, her back not so tight.

Swinging his gaze back around to her, Dave shook his head. "None of that was okay, babe," Dave replied, his eyes locking on hers as he pressed a gentle hand to her flushed cheek. "Was it, Doc?" he asked Ducky, never taking his eyes off of the fragile beauty lying in the bed.

Shining his light down JJ's throat, Ducky grimaced as he flicked the light from side to side. "It's as if she really was strangled right in front of us." Clicking the light off, he looked down at JJ compassionately, patting her hand. "Your larynx appears bruised, my dear girl. Do yourself a service and only whisper for the next several hours, all right?"

"She'll be okay though, right, Doctor?" Hotch asked from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the gathered group.

Bobbing his head as he patted JJ's arm reassuringly, Ducky assured them all, "Nothing several hours of rest won't help." Lowering his head as he smiled gently at his patient, he admonished, "And remembering to whisper. "

Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, Dave nodded as he clutched JJ's hand tightly in his own, feeling her shift in the bed closer to him. "Thank God."

"Okay, then," Hotch stated, taking a step forward, casting his eyes around the room. "We should let JJ rest then. I'll make the rest of the team aware of the latest development. Dave, I assume you're staying?" Seeing the older man nod without looking at him, Hotch sighed. "I've arranged for a flight out of here at noon. Hopefully, we'll be able to talk to Mr. Jareau at breakfast."

"I'll talk to him, Hotch," JJ whispered, trying to raise her head off of the pillow, only to feel Dave's strong head pressing her back against the mattress.

"You'll keep your butt in that bed until Ducky says it's safe for you to get up, Troublemaker," Gibbs rumbled from his position against the wall in the corner, his glare settling on her. "Else, I'LL be tattling to your father. And mine."

Sticking her tongue out at him, everyone in the room uttered a relieved laugh at the young agent's unspoken response.

"All right, we'll see everyone at breakfast then," Hotch said with a gentle smile at JJ.

Stepping forward, Gideon lightly touched JJ's leg, meeting her clear gaze. "You did good, JJ. A really good start."

"You sure?" JJ whispered, her eyes widening as she hoped she had accomplished something, anything, that would help them move forward in this case…that would help them find Lacy's killer.

"We learned something we didn't know...and it's something we can look for. You did great," Gideon repeated with a solemn nod. Slapping Dave's shoulder, he muttered, "Take care of her."

"I do believe I'll take my leave as well, my dear girl. My room is just down the hall if you have any further trouble tonight," Ducky said, rising from the bed and closing his case with a decisive click. "But I don't expect you will. The best thing for you is rest." Turning he nodded to Gibbs, "I shall see you in the morning, Jethro."

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs nodded as Ducky followed the other two men from the room, the door closing softly behind him.

Stepping closer to the bed, Gibbs brushing a gentle hand over JJ's head as he murmured to Dave, "You got this or you want some company?"

"We'll be fine," Dave said softly, watching as JJ's heavy eyes drooped closed, her head tilting toward him in her sleep. "You need to go talk to Hotch about the plan tomorrow," he said meaningfully, turning his eyes to the NCIS agent. "Immediately, man."

Looking quickly at JJ and finding her eyes still closed, Gibbs jerked his head toward the door. "Walk me out?" he asked softly, moving toward the door.

Nodding, Dave eased off the bed, smoothing his hand over JJ's cheek when she whimpered. Hesitating until she settled once again, he finally eased off the mattress, trying not to bounce the bed. "Let's be quick," Dave whispered, casting one last glance at the bed.

Standing just outside the partially closed door a few moments later, Dave murmured, "You're interrogating the coroner in the morning, man. He looks good for this so far."

"The new guy that dad was telling me about?" Gibbs grunted, cobalt eyes narrowing dangerously, his gut tightening as he realized how close the possible killer had been to more than one person that he cared for.

"Yeah," Dave nodded quickly, throwing a glance at the door, listening closely for any sounds from inside the room. "Find Gideon or Hotch, they'll fill you in. I wanted to do it, but Hotch seems to think I'll kill the bastard first and try asking my questions to his corpse."

"You do seem a little...close," Gibbs smirked, raising an eyebrow, his question unspoken but clear.

"Good to know you haven't gone blind in your old age, Gibbs," Dave retorted sarcastically, stuffing a hand in his pocket. "Let's just hope all your other skills are as sharp as I remember."

"Hurt Jenny and I'll treat you to a refresher course on my sniper skills. Up very close and real personal," Gibbs returned pleasantly, nodding toward the half-closed door.

"You let me worry about JJ," Dave retorted.

"So it's like that, huh?" Gibbs drawled, leaning against the wall outside the door.

"It's exactly like that," Dave muttered, walking back inside the hotel room and closing the door on Leroy Jethro Gibbs' soft laugh.


	55. Chapter 54

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

Slipping quietly back inside the dim room, Dave's eyes immediately were drawn to the still woman lying peacefully atop the worn coverlet blanketing the bed. Moving to her side, Dave peered down at her face, searching for any signs of distress, anything that would signal that she needed Ducky's help once again. Eyes closed, the tight lines that had bracketed JJ's bow mouth seemed to have relaxed and her cheeks were slowly regaining some color. One hand curled by her face as the other rested on her evenly rising and falling chest. Releasing a relieved breath, he eased into the arm chair beside the bed, content to watch her slumber.

Jesus, he'd been scared shitless as she had vividly recalled the horrific moments when her kidnapper had taken her and her sister. How long had it been since that bitter acrid taste had filled his mouth as it had tonight? Grimacing as he settled deeper into the cushions of the recliner, he knew exactly how long it had been. Twenty-five fucking years. The last time his hands had shaken like that had been the night he'd carried a terrified, traumatized blonde haired angel out of hell. And tonight, they'd both revisited it.

Involuntarily reaching out a hand to stroke her arm, he frowned as he closed his fingers around chilled flesh. Damn, this so-called regression had made a hell of an impact on the fragile beauty, he thought, his eyes scanning her body again as he pulled a blanket from the back of his chair, gently covering her. Seeing her flinch slightly in her sleep, he lifted a hand to stroke her silky hair, murmuring nonsensical words of comfort as he did.

All this pain to remember a fucking tattoo. His heart screamed against the horrible injustice of it all while his rational brain argued that it had been well worth the effort. They had another piece of information. Now, how useful that simple piece was remained to be determined.

One thing was certain though. He'd fight like hell before he'd allow her to do this to herself again. Moving his eyes to the graceful curve of her swan's neck, he flinched as he looked at the angry red welts marring her perfect alabaster skin. As long as he lived, he'd never be able to forget the desperate fear he'd seen glowing in her eyes as she'd clawed at her neck. Hell, no. They'd have to find another way to catch this predator. Watching her put herself through another needless hell was out of the question. And if he had to join forces with her father against her to make it happen, so be it.

As if Locke had somehow caught Dave's thoughts telepathically, he felt his phone vibrating in the pocket of his shirt. Pulling it out and glancing at the display, Rossi smirked. That man had to be part mind reader. Which didn't really surprise him, considering who his daughter was. Flipping the small compact phone open, he softly grunted, "Rossi."

"How's my baby girl?" Locke questioned abruptly, abandoning all social pleasantries as his thoughts focused around his remaining child. He had waited long enough to call, having picked up the receiver to dial a dozen times over the last hour, only to drop it with a clatter. But now, he wanted answers.

"Sleeping," Dave replied in a whisper, lowering his voice even more. "She had a hard night, but she appears to be resting comfortably now," Dave told the older man truthfully as his eyes remained on JJ's sleeping countenance.

"How bad, Rossi?" Locke questioned bluntly, leaning forward in his worn recliner. "It wasn't like before, was it?" he asked worriedly, his gnarled fingers clenching the phone even tighter.

"No, Locke," Dave said quickly, wanting to allay the other man's fears as much as he could and still remain honest. "She was fully aware of her surroundings after the regression. She was cognizant of her of the people around her and talking clearly."

"Thank God," Locke breathed, the sound floating across the connection. "Any physical effects?" Locke prompted, remembering all of Jason Gideon's various warnings of what could happen. He'd demanded to know everything that could possibly go wrong before he'd finally agreed to back off the issue with his daughter, refusing to be left in the dark in any area. She was all he had left, and he wasn't about to let anybody go digging around in her brain if it was going to end up hurting her more in the end.

"She had some trouble breathing for a bit. But, we had Dr. Mallard here to monitor her condition and she recovered fairly easily," Dave said. At least from that, he amended silently. He still wasn't convinced JJ was past all the effects of this session. God knew that he wasn't.

"She had asthma when she was a kid," Locke worried, memories of those scary attacks coming back quickly. "You don't think she's having a flare up, do you?"

"No, Locke, I don't. It ebbed to easily to be an asthma attack," Dave winced, not wanting to share the details of the origination of JJ's difficulty breathing unless absolutely necessary. It wouldn't do anything other than hurt the concerned father even more. And he'd endured enough pain over the years. He and JJ both had. Compounding it wouldn't accomplish anything.

"More than likely a panic attack then," Locke muttered, mostly to himself, his fingers sliding idly down the spiraled phone cord. "She used to have those a lot in those first years after we lost the baby."

Yeah, Rossi thought silently, he'd panic too if he'd been forced to relive some faceless bastard trying to squeeze him into submission. "At any rate, I think the worst is past from this session," Dave said instead, trying to reassure the only man he was certain cared about JJ as much as he did.

"You'll stay with her though? In case the nightmares come?" Locke worried, glancing around the room for his boots, fully prepared to find a way to get to his baby if she needed him.

"I won't leave her side, Locke," Dave assured the other man solemnly. And he wouldn't. Hell would freeze first.

"Didn't think ya would, but I had to ask," Locke replied faintly, his gnarled fingers wrapping more tightly around the yellow phone as he gave himself permission to relax marginally in his armchair.

"Get some rest, Locke," Dave said, gentling his voice in deference to the sharp emotions the other man must surely be experiencing. "I promise you that I'll take care of her."

"Well," Locke sighed, glancing out the dark window, only catching his reflection staring back at him, "You've been doing a decent enough job so far. Looks like I'll just have to keep on trustin' you, won't I?" he asked tiredly, turning away from the sight of the old man he had become.

"I won't let you down," Dave stated evenly.

"All right then. I'll see ya in the mornin'. You just call me if she needs me tonight," Locke ordered sternly.

"I will, Locke. Goodnight," Dave said softly, flipping the phone closed and dropping it on the small nightstand. Resting his head against the back of his chair, his eyes were drawn back to JJ's sleeping form. So special to so many, he thought to himself, warmth filling his chest. And yet, she allowed few near. In point of fact, he'd watched her determinedly isolate herself more than once. Now he knew why. She was afraid to care too much, fearful that someone else would be ripped away from her, never sharing her burden with anyone lest they pity her.

Too bad for her that he wasn't going to allow himself to be one of the people she pushed away. David Rossi was here to stay.


	56. Chapter 55

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

The faint tapping was barely audible in her quiet room. Looking up from the nest she had made on her motel bed, Emily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she stared at the door, wondering if she had actually heard something. A second later, when the sound came a bit more forcefully, she knew she wasn't imagining it.

Pushing up quickly as she glanced at the bedside clock, she hoped this was good news. But a part of her had already mentally prepared for the worst, knowing that what her teammate and friend was going through could never be classified as enjoyable by anyone, anywhere.

Staring through the tiny, dull peephole, she sighed. Clicking open the locks, Emily stared up into the tense face of Aaron Hotchner. Nodding at her, Hotch asked simply, "Can I come in?"

Nodding quickly, Emily stepped back, letting him step inside the small room as she clicked the door shut, throwing the locks back into place. Turning to see him just standing at the foot of her bed, she asked, softly, "Do I want to know how bad it was?"

Shrugging his shoulders as he loosened his tie, Hotch shook his head, his mind still processing the information himself, not quite trusting himself to be able to easily explain it to anyone else. "Probably not."

"Just tell me this," Emily said, stepping toward him as she flicked on another lamp on the dresser, bathing the room in a dull golden light. "Is JJ okay?"

"She will be," Hotch answered, drawing in a deep breath, trying to release some of the pent up anger and emotion, the sights and sounds from that short regression session with his media liaison still hanging around him. "Rossi's with her now."

Grinning at that simple statement, Emily cocked an eyebrow. "Well, did you expect anything less? He's not going to leave her side, especially now." Not able to miss that Hotch didn't even respond to her attempt at levity, she stepped closer as she asked, softly, "What happened, Hotch?"

Paling visibly as he remembered JJ's face frozen in terror as she'd clawed at her neck, Hotch shook his head, unable to form coherent words for a moment. Stomach sinking, he whispered, "She remembered her first contact with the unsub...how she found her sister. He grabbed her from behind while she was turned toward Lacy. Based on her memories, he slammed her body against the wall and throttled her into unconsciousness."

"All that pain and she didn't remember anything that might help us?" Emily asked faintly, revolted by Hotch's grim description of JJ's recollections. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she swallowed hard, leaning back against the dresser as she tried to make sense of this entire situation.

"No, she did," Hotch corrected immediately, jerking his eyes to her dark, clear gaze. "Based on what she recalled, our unsub will display a tattoo of a trident on his left forearm. Green ink."

"Hotch! That's wonderful. It's something tangible. Something we can actually release in a profile," Emily grinned suddenly, the knot in the pit of her stomach lessening at the thoughts of a break in the case, even this small.

"Yeah," Hotch said softly, forcing a tight smile as he recognized the usefulness of the clue . But seconds later, he muttered, shaking his dark head, "But you didn't see what this did to JJ, Emily. And, sadly, we're going to have to ask her to do it again. We need more."

"We knew that we would, Hotch. She knew she would," Emily replied sympathetically., reaching out a hand to cover his, letting her fingers linger against his warm skin.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Hotch blew out an irritated breath. "Damn it," he groaned, meeting her eyes again. "The regressions...the exhumation...how the hell much more can I expect JJ to give us, Em? How much before she breaks?"

"She won't break, Aaron," Emily said confidently, squeezing his fingers, taking some comfort when he turned their hands and laced them together for a second, squeezing. "She won't."

"How can you possibly know that?" Hotch asked faintly, his words light in the quiet room, the only other sound coming from the rattling of the ancient heating system in the corner.

"Because she has her father...and Dave...and concerned friends like you. She's going to make it through to the other side of this. None of us are going to allow it to happen any other way. Least of all you," Emily said confidently, loosening her hand as she felt his fingers twitch.

"You've got a lot of faith in me," Hotch snorted, jerking his body toward the window of her room and staring out into the black night, the moon barely shining.

"You've proven more than once that it isn't unfounded," Emily stated quietly, watching his shoulders relax slightly as her words filtered into the quiet room. "I should know. I've been there."

"Think so? Honestly, it's days like today that make me wonder why I didn't take Strauss up on her offer and walk away from this kind of insanity," Hotch mused, propping a shoulder against the window frame as he watched a raindrop hit the opaque glass and trickle downward, leaving a streak in the grime.

"I think it's because you know that we're a family. And odd mish mash of souls...but still a family. And we appointed you patriarch," Emily said, lifting her lips in a half smile as she stepped closer.

"You people got screwed," Hotch sighed, his fingers pressing against the cold glass. "I can't even manage to get my own kid to one sappy movie," Hotch grunted, staring at his wavering reflection cast back off the glass.

"And Jack understands that his daddy is helping Aunt JJ. I know...I talked to him tonight. Evidently he refused to go to bed until he'd told each member of the team goodnight," Emily chuckled, her spirits lightening automatically at the thought of Hotch's tiny son. Something about both of those Hotchner men tugged at her heartstrings, bringing out feelings that she had thought were either dead or long since buried.

"I heard," Hotch said, smiling slightly at his son's antics, his own chest loosening slightly as he thought of his rambunctious son.

"Like his father, he can be scarily focused when he'd determined to succeed," Emily mused, smiling as Hotch turned to look at her, his shoulders not as stiff as they had been just seconds earlier.

Running his eyes over her lithe body, standing there in a brief tank top and formfitting track pants, Hotch replied in a low voice, his thoughts suddenly shifting, "You've learned me pretty well, haven't you?"

Shrugging lightly as she felt his eyes slide over her again, Emily flushed under his intense gaze. "I pay attention."

"Yes, you do like to watch, don't you?" Hotch asked deeply, taking a moment to do some watching of his own.

"I wouldn't if I didn't like what I'd seen," Emily countered, refusing to back down from his scrutiny, hoping that for once, the fates had conspired in her favor. "Lucky for you, I do."

"What else do you see, Em?" Hotch asked, taking a slow, deliberate step forward.

Toward her.


	57. Chapter 56

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

The sound of a loud scream woke her up, and somehow she realized the scream was coming from her throat. Her eyes snapped wide open, staring wildly into the darkened room as she tried to catch her breath, only to find that she was gasping, her throat burning with every breath.

Jerking up at the shriek, Dave threw himself out of the side chair, toward the woman currently struggling in bed. Wrapping an arm around JJ's shoulders as she fought against him, Dave said firmly but gently, "JJ, you're okay. You're awake." Feeling her body stiffen hard at his words as she jerked to the side, her breath coming in loud exhales, he said, worriedly, "Jennifer! Honey, it's me, Dave. You're not back there anymore."

She could hear his words, but her mind couldn't seem to comprehend them, couldn't let them sink in. Closing her eyes, she whispered finally, letting him pull her against him as she fought those long-held memories, "It was so cold. Lacy was so cold. I kept trying to warm her, to hold her, but she kept shaking. And I couldn't make it quit!"

Feeling her shiver as she tried to chatter out the words, Dave knew that he couldn't let her stay in her memories. Grabbing for the blankets she had kicked off, Dave pulled her tight against him as he tucked the covers tightly around them both. Turning her face so he could see her, he begged, "Come on, honey. Open your eyes. Let me see those beautiful blues."

She shook her head against his shirt, gripping his collar tightly as she whispered, fingers shaking, "I couldn't stop him from taking her. Then it got even co…colder down there!"

Rocking her back and forth in his arms as her ragged breathing slowed into intermittent pants, Dave prayed some of his body heat would seep into her chilled skin. Pressing a gentle kiss against her temple as she rambled, he kept her in his arms, tucked tightly against him.

"And lonely," she was whispering, the words barely audible. "I thought the silence would drive me crazy. Every once in a while, I'd think that I could hear her crying. And I didn't know whether to hope it was her or not. Because somehow I knew that if she was crying, she might be alive...but anything could be happening above me," she babbled, clutching the collar of Dave's shirt as she buried her face in his neck, her breaths coming in gasps against his skin.

"She's not hurting anymore, JJ. She's with your mother...at peace," Dave whispered against her hair as he ran his hand soothingly up and down her spine, her shudders echoing beneath his touch.

"For a little while, anyway. If we let them bring her up..." JJ whimpered, her eyes clenching shut again as she saw her sister's four-year old face flash through her mind.

"It won't change anything at all," Dave cut her off, overriding her words. "Lacy's not here anymore, honey. Those are her remains...but she's not there." Holding her as the shudders wracking her body finally ebbed, he felt her grip on his shirt loosen, her body relaxing against him as the worst of the night terror finally waned. "Feeling any better?" Dave asked, keeping his arms wrapped around her small body, his fingers cataloguing the obvious thinness. Jesus, when this was finally over, he was going to make it his mission to see her gain a few pounds. Her father was right; she was losing too much weight.

Nodding, JJ drew in a shaky breath, her hands tightening for a moment against his strong arms. "I think so," she whispered, blinking slowly as she pulled back to look up at him in the dim room. "I'm still cold, but I think it's because I sweated so much during my nightmare," she murmured, swiping at her forehead, the air hitting her skin again.

"That'd be enough to give you a chill," Dave nodded, brushing a finger against her cheek as some of her color seemed to return to her too-pale skin. Smiling reassuringly, he suggested, softly, "Why don't you go wash your face and change into something more comfortable?"

Nodding again, JJ began crawling off the bed only to turn around suddenly, her worried eyes finding his face again.

Stopping her before she had a chance to speak, Dave said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere, honey." Watching as evident relief flooded her face, Dave smiled, motioning toward the side door. "Go on. I'm gonna change, too. I think we both need to sleep in a real bed tonight."

"Okay," she whispered huskily, quickly turning and disappearing into the connecting bathroom, pushing the door almost closed, but not completely.

Dave made short work of stepping into the next room and changing into a tee shirt and flannel pants. By the time he'd returned to JJ's bedroom, she was walking out of the bathroom, clad in a long cotton button down nightshirt. Turning back the covers, Dave nodded toward the bed. "In you go," he murmured, holding back the comforter as JJ climbed across the bed.

Sliding in behind her a moment later, Dave released a relieved sigh as she automatically turned into his arms, fitting her still chilled body against his and settling her blonde head against his chest. Tangling his legs with hers, he reached for the bedside lamp, confident that the light streaming from the ajar bathroom door would be adequate to allay her fear of the dark. Finally resting his head against the pillow, he ran a hand down her back, whispering, "Warm now, babe?"

"Yeah, everything but my hands," JJ replied softly, fisting her hands between them. "Lucky for me, you're a human furnace."

Pulling his shirt up, Dave tugged her hands to his chest, flattening them against him. "Get a little closer to the flame then, honey," he urged, frowning into the darkness as he realized how cold her little hands actually were. "Hell, babe, you're like ice," he murmured, chafing the top of her hands as he pressed her palms closer to his breast.

"Sorry," JJ whispered apologetically, trying to pull her hands away.

"Stop that," he said, stalling her movements as he pressed his much larger hands over hers. "I'm worried, Jen, not complaining."

"Oh," she muttered, relaxing against him again. Shifting restlessly against him a second later, JJ sighed, apology coloring her voice, "Sorry, I guess I'm more jittery than I thought. Maybe I should move into the chair and let you get some sleep."

Closing his hand around her hip as she started to scoot away, Dave shook his head. "You aren't going anywhere." Rubbing his chin against her hair idly, Dave murmured, his hand dropping against her shoulder, "You know the best cure for restlessness?"

"Hmmm?" JJ hummed, trying to force her body to remain still beside his.

"Being distracted into relaxing," Dave murmured, cupping a hand around the nape of her neck and staring down into her shadowed blue eyes. "And luckily for you, I can be an excellent distraction when I put my mind to it," he whispered, dipping his head to claim her lips in a tender kiss. Coaxing her lips apart, he sighed as he felt her tongue tentatively meet his in an intimate dance.

A dance that was just beginning. For both of them.


	58. Chapter 57

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

Finally turning her head away from him, from the amazing feelings he was creating in her long-denied body, JJ raggedly whispered, "Dave, we shouldn't do this."

"I can't think of a single reason why this isn't exactly what I should be doing," Dave countered, launching a tender assault against the curve of her neck, his lips tracing wicked patterns against her sensitive skin. Feeling her soften in his arms, he knew he'd won this round. Her soft moan as his teeth scraped her throat only further confirmed his suspicions, especially when her thin arms slipped convulsively around his neck as he shifted half over her, covering her thin frame.

Slowly exchanging kiss after passionate kiss, their lips and tongues following each other in a seductive game of cat and mouse, his mouth caught JJ's low moan as he lowered one hand to cup her breast. Her sound of arousal spurred him on as he quickly released the first two buttons of her nightgown, furiously intent on revealing her gorgeous breasts to his hungry eyes. Only the alarmed flash of her eyes as she tore her lips away from his could have stalled his actions as he felt her small hand still his.

"Dave, no!" JJ gasped as she heard her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her fingers tightly clenching at his, at the gaping gown.

"Jen? Honey, it's okay," he murmured calmly as he felt her begin to scrambled away from him. Tightening his fingers against her hip gently, stalling that retreat, he said slowly, surely, "We don't have to do anything you aren't ready for."

"N-no," she stuttered, her eyes widening, holding her slightly gaping nightshirt together with nerveless fingers, "You d-don't understand. The scars...it's ugly and..."

"Hey!" he said softly, easing her back against the pillows as he swept gentle fingers against her tense ones. "First, there's not a part of you that isn't beautiful, your scar included. Second, the only thing that scar means is that you fought a hard battle and survived to tell the tale. It isn't _anything _to be ashamed of."

"It's hideous," JJ said through clenched teeth, her fingers holding together her nightshirt in a punishing grip, trying to hide the evidence she had lived with for the past twenty-five years.

Sliding his fingers over her whitened knuckles, he gently pried her fingers away from the fabric, one by one. "You're wrong, Sweetheart," he breathed against her cheek, his words whispering against her skin. "Trust me and let me show you how wrong you are."

"It's repulsive, Dave. Believe me, it isn't something any man wants to look at. I've been here before...I know," she whispered, closing her eyes as she remembered the look of disgust on the face of the last man she'd allowed to see the imperfection marring her body. Her mind still burned with that rejection, his expression seared into her psyche, another nail pounding into the coffin of any potential love life she might have had.

Jaw tensing angrily, somehow he knew that somewhere in the world, there was a man that had given her this complex of inferiority about her beautiful body. And he knew, if he ever managed to gain his name, he'd find the bastard and beat him within an inch of his miserable life for daring to disparage one inch of this beauty's perfect body.

But that wasn't his current problem, and he knew it. Dropping his head, he whispered against JJ's ear, "I don't know what man made you feel that way, but he was wrong. Horribly wrong. And he wasn't me, JJ. You have to trust somebody sometime, Angel. Let it be me," he urged, his fingers smoothing over the exposed skin of her breastbone, tracing the top ridge of her scar with careful, loving touch.

Dave lifted his head as JJ opened her closed eyes. Seeing the brief flash of indecision in her eyes, he whispered, "Give me a chance, JJ."

Her heart and mind waged a roaring battle as she stared into his serious dark eyes. He sounded so sincere, so honest, so caring. And unlike her previous lover, he already knew the ugliness hidden beneath her nightgown. Perhaps, it wouldn't be like before. Maybe, just maybe, he was telling her the truth. She couldn't deny that her body screamed for his touch, begged for the release that she knew he could provide her. And more than that, she instinctively knew that Dave wasn't going to hurt her or let anyone else hurt her. Finally nodding jerkily, her fingers moved spastically over the buttons of her gown, releasing the small closures from their matching loopholes as her eyes never wavered from his.

Resisting the urge to shout his victory, Dave managed to remain completely silent, simply waiting as her hesitant hand moved down the short line of buttons guarding her secrets. Her small movements finally stopped as she released the last button resting over her belly button. Watching as she bit her lower lip uncertainly, he saw her swallow...heard her barely there voice whisper, "Okay, Dave."

Eyes never leaving hers, he slowly parted the folds of her gown over the mounds of her breasts, shifting the loose fabric out of the way. Sliding his eyes from her beautiful worried face down her swan's graceful neck to the gorgeous mounds of her breasts, he saw the jagged scar raised against her flushed skin. Using a gentle finger, he traced its length from beginning to end, feeling JJ's chest rise and fall against the light pressure of his finger. God, she was beautiful. Bewitching. Beguiling. And no scar, no matter how big or small, could change that.

Watching his eyes darken in the shadowed room, JJ whimpered, unable to stand the pressure of the unknown for another second, "Say something. Please."

Lifting his eyes back to hers, only two words were coherent in his mind. "You're perfect."

Feeling tears gather behind her eyes, JJ lifted her hand quickly, cupping his neck and pulling his face back to hers, her only urge to have him as close as possible. She poured her grateful relief into their kiss, digging her nails into his scalp as his hands moved over her, teasing her breasts with deliciously slow strokes of his fingers.

Breaking away from her lips slowly, he turned his head, whispering reverently, "You never had anything to worry about, Bella. Never."

And as long as he was in her life, he would make it his mission to make sure she never worried about anything else ever again.


	59. Chapter 58

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

Trailing his lips warmly down her cheek to her neck, Dave sucked gently at JJ's throbbing pulse before moving lower to cover one heavily aroused peak. Pulling her dusky nipple into his mouth, he worked his tongue against it, drawing it into a tight peak as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. Hearing her soft erotic moan, he switched his attention to her other side, delivering the same intense attention as he kept her other damp stiffened nipple drawn into a tight bud with his fingertips. "Beautiful," he whispered, drawing back to stare at the deepening flush his deliberate movements had brought to her breasts.

Drawing his tongue lovingly down the raised scar to where it ended just above her belly button, he groaned. Damn, her taste was intoxicating, and now the musky scent of her need teased his nostrils. And he knew he needed more. Sliding back up her body, he dropped kisses against her heated flesh as he finally reached her face. Staring down at her, his eyes glowed with need. "Let me taste you, Bella," he breathed.

Eyes widening in surprise as she heard his husky request, she wondered if she was hearing things, her mind working on overload. Struggling to speak coherently, she squeaked faintly, "T-taste me? I don't know...I mean, I've never...no man ever wanted to...I'm not sure if..."

Hearing the uncertainty coloring her broken words, Dave covered her lips in an infinitely tender kiss. "Do you trust me?" Seeing her slight nod, he murmured, "Then let me do this for you...for us. I need it every bit as much as you do, Jennifer," he muttered against the skin of her neck as he slowly eased her nightgown around her hips, his fingers trailing her toned thighs.

"A-all right," JJ said finally, managing to convince her vocal cords to cooperate, "If you're sure that you really want to..to do...that," she finished on a hoarse whisper. Having spent all of her adult life teetering on the edge, protecting herself from being hurt again, she now found herself in the enviable position of having a man want to give her the most intimate pleasure, and she wasn't sure how to react.

"Sweetheart," he assured her in a deep tender voice as he began to kiss his way back down her graceful body, "sure is an understatement. I'm way beyond sure." Pausing to bestow lingering wet caresses to each of her breasts, he allowed his tongue to chart a course back down her jagged scar, murmuring hotly against her skin, "I'm positive. And before I'm done, I'll make sure that you are, too."

Slamming her eyes closed as decadent pleasure suffused her trembling body, JJ allowed herself to simply feel the wondrous sensations he was arduously creating within her. Catching her breath as she felt his teeth gently capture the simple cotton material covering the last of her secrets, she forced herself to breath as he used his mouth and hands to slide the last barrier from her body. Biting her lip as she felt him part her legs, she felt him drape each of her thighs over his broad shoulders, exposing her to his eyes.

Feeling her legs stiffen against his shoulders, Dave knew the captivating woman beneath him was struggling with her embarrassment, feeling intensely vulnerable. Turning his head to press soothing kisses against the inside of first one thigh and then the other, he felt her relax against the mattress, her soft breathy sigh confirming that she was indeed enjoying his slow ministrations. And enjoyment is exactly what he wanted her to feel. Watching as his warm breath fanned her soft downy curls, he felt her legs tremble in anticipation and he smiled helplessly. So unbelievably responsive, even when she tried to remain unaffected.

Feeling his warm breath fanning her, whispering against her most intimate parts, JJ held her breath as she felt his thumbs gently part her folds. "Dave?" she questioned softly as he went completely still, fear filling her for a moment, wondering if he was having second thoughts.

"Shhh," he breathed, his eyes taking in the indescribable beauty before him. "I'm just pausing to admire how utterly perfect you are."

His warm words of praised washed over her like a balm, soothing her battered ego, giving her the courage and confidence to allow him to continue. Releasing a shaky breath as she watched his dark head lower and felt his tongue's first intimate touch, waves of forbidden pleasure collided within her body. Arching her back against the mattress, a needy moan slipped from her lips and bent the quiet room.

Her rich flavor flooded his taste buds as he heard her first whimper of pleasure in the still bedroom. Eyes falling closed, he groaned as her taste delivered an unrivaled high to his senses, better than any liquor or woman before her ever had. And he knew in an instant, she was going to be more addicting than even the most dangerous drug on the market. "So sweet, baby," he breathed, sipping her like the headiest fine wine.

"Oh my God," JJ cried out tremulously as her small hands clawed the sheets beneath her. Unconsciously raising her hips, obeying the age-old innate coding in her soul, her mind screamed for more of his heated caresses against her throbbing flesh. "Dave!" she whimpered, shifting erratically underneath him, silently begging for him to continue...to prolong these stunningly amazing feelings coursing through her.

Hearing the wanton plea she'd injected when calling his name, he quickened the strokes of his tongue against her, ratcheting their desire for each other up another notch. Cupping her narrow hips in his strong hands, he pushed her further as his hips undulated against the mattress below him in a desperate attempt to relieve the heavy ache residing there. Smiling against her molten core as he felt the muscles of her thighs tensing against his shoulders, he redoubled his efforts, releasing one hip to slide a finger inside her. Incoherent words flowed from her lips as her head thrashed against the pillows, and he felt satisfaction welling inside him.

And as her scream of completion echoed in the tiny room, he felt his own release torn from his body. Groaning deeply, he closed his eyes and savored the moment. Like a fourteen year old boy, he'd lost himself inside his own pants, his control wrested from him by the satisfied cries of the tiny woman shuddering beneath him. Sliding back up her body and staring down into amazed, satiated eyes, he smiled.

"Wait!" JJ managed to gasp, her mind coming back into control as she jerked her head off the pillow, "You didn't-..."

"I beg to differ, Sweetheart. I most certainly _did_. Stay exactly where you are, Jen. I'll be right back. I need to go clean up," he murmured, dropping a kiss against her neck as he slid out of bed.

Returning scant moments later, he found JJ struggling to pull her nightgown back together, a red blush covering her cheeks. Crawling back into bed beside her, he stilled her frantic movements by pulling her back into his arms, sliding her hands away from the thin fabric. "Stop that," he admonished gently. "I worked damn hard to reveal that flesh," he whispered against her temple as he pulled her back against his now bare chest, nuzzling her neck. Cupping a warm breast in his hand, he continued, "I thought I had you convinced that I think you're gorgeous."

Leaning her head back to rest against his chest, she stared out the darkened window across the room as she shakily confessed, "I've never....not like that."

"If it helps," Dave chuckled against her neck, pressing a soft kiss against her heated skin, "I haven't lost control like that since I was a teenager. So, I'd say we're in the same boat, Beautiful."

"What are we doing here, Dave?" JJ whispered plaintively, her thoughts jumbling as she tried to make sense of everything at once.

Deliberating for a moment on how best to respond to the woman in his arms, he settled for what he'd always given her. Honesty. "I can't speak for you, JJ," he whispered slowly, nuzzling against her silky blonde hair, "But, I'm a little busy falling in love with a young woman I'm nowhere close to deserving."

"Oh," JJ replied weakly, at a loss for words, unable to formulate even the simplest response as she tried to digest that answer. A part of her, the part that she had kept tamped down and hidden, rejoiced, knowing that he returned the feelings she had for him. But the other part, the more logical, practical side, reminded her of the difficulties that they would encounter.

"So I've stunned you into silence," Dave murmured against her shoulder a few seconds later, "I need to write the date and time down somewhere."

"Smartass," JJ grumbled, turning in his arms to nestle against him, burying the fingers of one hand in the hair on his chest as she quietened the objections in her mind. For once, she was going to allow herself to just feel, to enjoy the pleasure, and to let herself trust.

"Always," Dave said easily, chuckling into her soft hair.

"This is going to get so complicated, Dave," JJ whispered, rubbing her nose against his chest, inhaling his wonderful masculine scent.

"Sweetheart, it's always been complicated. From day one...but I'm not going to let that stop me," Dave warned, ghosting his hand down her spine, letting it rest against the perfect swell of her hip.

Eyes drifting closed, JJ sighed, relaxing deeper against his strong body, "On some level, I guess I already knew that."

"Sleep, babe," he murmured, pulling her closer to his warmth as he tucked the worn coverlet around them. "We can talk in the morning."

And this time when Jennifer Jareau fell asleep, his embrace kept the nightmares at bay for the rest of the night.


	60. Chapter 59

**Author's Note: For my loyal readers, this story will probably not be updated again until Sunday or Monday. Please let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading and reviewing. Let us know what you think!**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

Emily Prentiss believed that being direct was always the best course, no matter what the situation. She possessed great tact and negotiating skills, having honed those skills on the minefield of international politics. And she was always prepared, believing that one should never ask a question that they are not prepared to hear the answer for.

Which is why she took Aaron Hotchner's question seriously, not brushing him off or giving him a flip, pat answer. His question deserved depth and consideration. And since she honestly wanted to see where a future with this man could lead, she was willing to provide just that amount of effort, having found that the future, especially if it involved this man, is usually worth fighting for.

Drawing in a deep breath, she stared straight into this deep, dark eyes as she answered, softly, "I see a man that bears the weight of the world, or at least this team and his family, on his strong shoulders. While I don't doubt you have your reasons for doing so, I wish there was something I could do to lighten that load, at least for a moment."

Letting his fingers sweep against her porcelain cheek, her skin smooth as satin beneath his touch, Hotch answered, his voice low in the otherwise quiet room, "You do that every day, Emily, just by being you. I couldn't do what I do without knowing that you're here."

"And I'll always be here." Pressing her cheek into his warm touch, she let her fingers creep up his shirt, sliding against the silk of the ever present tie that seemed to be as much a part of him as his dark hair or his piercing gaze. Swallowing as she felt the moment grow even more electrically charged, the ugly motel room morphing into something much more, she whispered, hesitantly, "But I want to do more, Hotch. I want more."

"Haley wanted more, too. And you see where that got her," Aaron replied softly, his tone warning, cautioning her to guard her questions, to guard her heart. But he didn't back away, his feet never wavering as he stood in front of her.

"We both know that I'm not Haley, Aaron," Emily replied, her voice equally soft as footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the hotel room door, reminding them both that they were far from alone. Swallowing tightly, Emily gauged his face as she deliberated the wisdom in continuing her current train of thought. As she listened to the footsteps recede down the hall, Emily licked her lips, pushing forward. "Haley was a great woman, Aaron. No one can ever deny that. But she wasn't perfect. And we both know that she never understood the rigors of doing this job. She'd given up on trying to understand you long before she lost her life. And one thing that you need to understand above anything else, before anything can move any further, is that _I'm_ not Haley. I'm never going to _be_ Haley, Aaron. "

"You think I don't realize that?" Hotch asked softly, his eyes darkening even more, the small lamp light flickering off his deep pupils. Clearing his throat as he looked away for a moment, he finally confided, his shoulders stiff, "Haley was a lot of things. Good and bad. But one thing she never did was fight. Not in arguments...not with words...all there was when she was angry or hurt was silence. This cold silence." Shaking his head, he muttered, staring down at the floor then, his eyes gazing unseeingly at the battered carpet, "I was no better. But, in the end...neither one of us fought very hard for the other. Not when it mattered most. Not when it could have saved us."

Seeing the unhappy memories clouding his face, Emily touched his arm, whispering softly, "Hotch...,"

Lifting a hand to stall her words, he shook his head, his words not complete. "No, let me finish. You need to hear this. After she died, I told myself that if I was ever given another chance with a woman as wonderful as she had been, I wouldn't make the same mistakes. I wouldn't wall myself off and sit impassively when I had the opportunity for something wonderful in my life. I promised myself that I'd give myself permission to take a chance and see if I could create something beautiful with someone else." He paused then, turning his laser gaze on her as he said, tone heavy, "But It was _never_ supposed to be you. You, who I watch put her life on the line on a daily basis. You, who is not only my colleague, but a _subordinate_. You, who better than anyone, _knows_ all about the danger we each face on a daily basis."

Taking a step back, Emily felt tears gathering behind her eyes, the lump in her chest choking off any argument she could have made. And it no longer mattered, his words striking their target, deflating any hope she had with their perfect accuracy. "Okay, Hotch," she whispered, blinking once, "I get it. I overstepped, I'm sorry."

"Would you shut up for a minute," Hotch growled, following her movement as she came up against the wall behind her. "I wasn't finished yet," he said, moving to stand in just in front of her again, his black dress shoe tips pressed against the edge of her practical sneakers. Taking a deep breath, Hotch stared down into Emily's dark uncertain eyes. "Unfortunately, despite my best efforts to ignore it, I can't change the way you can make me feel better about life in general when you walk into a room. I can't stop grinning like an idiot when you make my son, who rarely even smiles anymore, laugh by just being you. I can't help the way my heart speeds up when you're hot or tired and you pull your hair up on top of your head and then let it fall around you shoulders, a perfect waterfall just for me. Even when I'm sleeping, you slip into my dreams, uninvited, making me feel things...want things...I haven't wanted in what seems like an eternity."

"So what are you saying, Aaron?" Emily asked breathlessly, pushing her head back against the unforgiving wall as he seemed to tower over her smaller body, the feeling more welcome than she had ever imagined it to be.

"I'm saying that I know who the hell you are. You're the woman that's slowly bringing my son and I back to life. The woman I go to sleep thinking about and the woman I wake up desperate to see. Is that enough honesty for you for one night?" he asked, almost bitterly, the openness he was showing her almost too much to bear, the possibility of rejection so tangible in his mind.

Pushing herself away from the wall and against his hard body, Emily shook her head. "Shut up, Aaron," she mumbled, burying her hands in his dark hair and pulling his face down to hers. "You talk too much," she whispered against his lips.


	61. Chapter 60

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty**

Three hours later, sprawled naked and content in Aaron Hotchner's arms, Emily Prentiss opened her eyes to find his dark assessing eyes staring down at her with laser like intensity. "What time is it?" she whispered, shifting against him to try and see the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table. Like every other member of the BAU team, the first thing she had done when she had moved into this temporary home away from home was to plug in her own alarm clock. Years of experience on the roads of the United States had taught them all to never depend on the appliances in local motels. And this so-called luxury accommodation hadn't even included an alarm clock at all.

"Just after four in the morning," he rumbled softly, propping against the headboard of the bed, his fingers spiraling small circles against the smoothness of her shoulder.

Turning to flip on the bedside lamp, Emily blinked quickly, her eyes adjusting to the sudden glare. Grabbing the glass of water on the nightstand, she drank thirstily, the combination of unexpected exercise and sleep having dried her throat out. Moving to set the glass back on the table, she suddenly felt Hotch's warm hand surrounding hers, taking the glass from her hand and taking a slow sip. Cocking her head as she grinned, she shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry...should have offered, huh?"

"Sorta makes me a little happy that you're used to sleeping alone," he chuckled, sliding his arm back over her as he resettled on his back, scrunching the pillow behind his dark head.

"Then you should be thrilled," Emily snorted, turning in the bed to meet his gaze, sliding her legs against the thin sheets. "I've been sleeping alone for at least the last sixteen months."

"I have you beat by two," Hotch challenged, twining a strand of her long, silky hair between her fingers, unable to resist that simple pleasure.

"Yeah, but my last experience was a dud," Emily countered with a small smile. "Definitely can't say that about you though," she murmured, propping her head on her hand as she rolled to face him, letting her eyes drink in his rumpled hair, his relaxed face.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Hotch said with a wink, his eyes darkening as he thought of the amazing ways their bodies had responded to each other.

"As it was intended," Emily laughed lightly, shifting higher in the bed so that she pillowed against him. Studying him in the early morning light, Emily couldn't help but notice how boyish the man in front of her appeared now. No one on the team would recognize him this way. Black hair falling unkempt against his forehead, shirtless and smiling. He looked so much younger...happier. Maybe they both did.

Watching his face change under her scrutiny, she frowned. "You suddenly look so serious," she murmured, wondering for a moment what could have changed in just these few seconds. Her heart clenched for a second, afraid that in the harsh light of reality that he might be having second thoughts.

Dropping his head back to rest against the hard wood of the headboard, Aaron sighed loudly. "I don't mean to...it's just...damn! I feel like David Rossi."

"Pardon?" Emily chuckled, relief flowing out in that one word. At least he hadn't said that what they had done was wrong or that it didn't matter to him.

"I'm in bed with my employee, Em. My very beautiful, incredibly sexy employee," he amended with a small rueful smile, his fingers walking against her arm. "But still my employee."

"D-do you want me to transfer? Would that make things easier? Because if it's a choice between you and my place in the unit...Hotch, I can find another position that would be equally rewarding. I can't find another you and Jack," Emily whispered, unwilling to lose what she had just found. If life had taught her any lessons worth remembering, it had been to hold on tightly to what was important. And at this late stage in the ballgame, she wasn't willing to lose another person, especially one as important as Aaron Hotchner.

"No!" Hotch said, shaking his head quickly, tightening his fingers around her thin wrist as he swept his thumb against the pulsing vein. "I would never ask you to stop doing something you loved. And I know you, Emily. You love this," Hotch said firmly. "Well," he said, looking around the room, "Maybe not this case specifically...but in general...hell, you know what I'm saying."

"I do," Emily nodded, feeling her neck stiffen as she kept her eyes trained on his. "But what are you suggesting? Did I make a false assumption? Did you want this to be a one-time thing?" she asked, stiffening as she realized that, perhaps, she'd misread the entire situation. Perhaps her earlier worries had been correct.

"What?" Hotch frowned, furrowing his dark brows as he narrowed his eyes. "Of course not. All I'm saying is that until we both know where this is going between us, that we keep things quiet."

"Quiet? As in, hidden?" Emily asked suspiciously, her fingers tightening against the edge of the well-used sheet, beginning to doubt her ability to profile at all if she had missed this side of Aaron Hotchner.

"As in, I don't want Strauss getting wind of something to use against either us or our team, Emily," Hotch corrected easily, easily reading between the rest of her unspoken comments. "Quite honestly though, I think Dave is going to be enough to distract her though."

"His feelings about JJ are pretty clear, aren't they?" Emily nodded, feeling herself begin to relax again, to relax in his arms.

"Yeah," Hotch sighed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm tighter around the beautiful woman in his arms.

"You think he's settled down, Aaron? I don't want JJ to get hurt and if even a tenth of the rumors are true..."

"I can honestly tell you that I've never seen Dave like he is with her. In the past ten years, he's calmed down, Emily. I can't deny that he was a hell raiser back in the day, but his feelings are genuine. It's in his eyes," Hotch loyally defended his friend. "At any rate, Rossi can hold his own against Strauss if push comes to shove. He knows where the bodies are buried. But I don't want to throw too much at the Bureau too fast."

Nodding, Emily agreed, resting her head on his shoulder. "I get it, Aaron. Besides, we're both intensely private people. I don't think keeping our relationship under the radar will prove too incredibly difficult. We don't exactly go around shouting our feelings."

"_Unlike_ David Rossi," Hotch chuckled.

Smiling, Emily could only join him in soft laughter as they rolled together once again.


	62. Chapter 61

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-One**

Slipping back into his hotel room, Dave balanced the two Styrofoam cups of coffee with practiced ease as he kicked the door closed. Wincing as the lock caught loudly against the metal frame, he glanced over at the connecting door to JJ's room, hoping that sound hadn't awakened her.

When he had left her twenty minutes prior, she was sound asleep, her blonde head tucked tightly against the pillow. And if he had his wish, she would stay in that condition for as long as possible, perhaps even sleeping through the rest of this case. But he knew that was indeed wishful thinking, no more likely than fairies and unicorns suddenly falling from the sky to shower them all with kisses and clover. Or at least that what's his practical Italian grandmother had always said.

But a man could still wish, couldn't he? If the past twenty-four hours were any indication of the coming days, then he needed whatever hope he could latch on to, his ultimate desire to protect her trumping almost everything else in their world.

Sliding through the connecting door, he eased the cups down onto the battered nightstand. Turning toward the bed, he honestly wasn't surprised to find her sleepy blue eyes staring up at him, her hand pressed against her sleep-flushed cheek.

"Hey, babe," he said softly, easing down on the edge of the bed he had vacated just minutes earlier. "Go back to sleep. You don't have to be up yet. We've got another hour before we need to meet the team."

Shifting upward against the headboard, JJ shook her head as she yawned, pressing a hand to her dry lips. "I'm up," she whispered huskily, her voice still strained from the previous night. Reaching for the cup of coffee, she took a grateful sip. "What time is it?" she asked as she swallowed, blinking to clear the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes.

"Just after seven," Dave said with a quick look at his watch. "Which means, you could sleep for another half hour," he admonished gently, smoothing a hand over the edge of the worn blanket.

"It's way too early for you to go into bossy bastard mode, Dave," JJ sighed, replacing her cup on the nightstand as he sat on the bed beside her, swinging his legs up on the mattress.

"So, that's what you're choosing to call it today, huh?" he winked, throwing a pillow against the headboard before settling comfortably beside her.

"For the moment. I'm certain my descriptions will get more colorful as the days go on," JJ muttered hoarsely, blushing slightly as the sheet slipped slightly on her body and she felt Dave's heated gaze on her flesh. Covering herself quickly, she shifted under his stare as she tucked the edge of the sheet into place. "Could you stop looking at me like that? Please?"

"Like what, Jen? Like I want you again? I doubt it since it's fairly obvious to both of us that I do," he snorted derisively, nudging her bare shoulder with his.

"It's not a good idea," JJ mumbled, uncomfortably shifting beside him as she fought the feelings flying through her mind. "We work together."

"Thus, we each understand the stresses of the job, making us more adept at dealing with each other's moods," Dave countered easily, hiding the grin that was hovering just beneath the surface, knowing that there wasn't an argument she could prepare that he wasn't ready to overcome.

"It's against the rules," JJ replied as she felt a heavy arm haul her into his arms.

"Only if you were my subordinate, which you are not. And since I'm not looking to climb the FBI hierarchy, you won't be," Dave said easily, settling her wriggling body in his lap as he tucked her hips next to his.

Rolling her eyes, JJ fought not to release an impatient growl as she slapped a hand against his chest. "You're a little less than twenty years older than me."

"I'm seasoned, not salty," Dave shrugged, tapping a finger against her nose. "Besides, you'd trample right over a younger man. At least I can hold my own with you." Listening to her release a flustered groan, he grinned. "Face it, Jen, I'm not going to give up. Not on you and not on us. But go ahead and keep making your arguments if it makes you feel better," he invited genially, shifting them both in the bed as she pulled the covers tighter over her body.

"So you can keep shooting them down?" JJ retorted, raising a blonde brow heavenward.

"I'm making rational arguments, babe. I don't think even you can deny that," Dave returned, rolling to his side to better see her averted face.

"You don't have to sound so smug about it," JJ grumbled, picking at the coverlet nervously, unable to stop the movement as she tried to control the emotions coursing through her body.

Frowning, Dave stilled her busy fingers. "What's your real concern here, Jen?" Putting a gentle finger under her chin, he directed her face to his, meeting her gorgeous blue eyes. "Come on. Tell me what you're thinking," he urged quietly.

"You'll get bored," she said before she could stop herself, the words pouring out. "In a few weeks or months, you'll get bored and move on and I'll have to get over the loss of another person in my life."

"So, rather than try and see if we could have something wonderful together, you'd rather just cut your losses now?" Dave asked, incredulously. "JJ, do I need to tell you how incredibly stupid that is?"

"It's not," JJ insisted, her jaw clenching as she straightened her shoulders. "And who the hell are you to call me stupid!" she hissed, jerking away from him.

"I didn't call you stupid," Dave growled, grabbing her arm in a gently intractable hold before she could bolt from the bed. "I called your statement stupid. First, there's no reality where I could _ever_ be bored by you. Second, you're already looking for this thing between us to end and it's barely had a chance to begin. Third, I've been hung up on you for months, JJ. So believe me, the way I feel about you isn't going to go away. You sink a little deeper into my heart every fucking day. These feelings have already proven their staying power. At least, they have to me. So, fight me all you want. I'll match you every step of the way."

Lips tightening as she met his steady gaze, his words sinking through the shields she thought she erected so firmly in her mind, JJ ground out, "You just aren't gonna let it go, are you?"

"Not if it means that I have to let you go," Dave replied evenly, his fingers walking against her bare skin. "I can't do that. I won't. If you don't want to do this because you don't want to be with me, that's one thing. But not trying because you're afraid of getting hurt? No, I won't let you do that. So which is it, Jen? Is it me that you don't want? Or is the fear of getting hurt what's keeping you from taking a step forward."

"You already know that I want you," JJ admitted reluctantly, her voice hoarse as she tamped down the groan threatening to escape. "I hate that you're the only person I feel completely safe with. I'm becoming dependent on you. Because when you walk away, it'll be hell for me. And I've already seen enough of hell, Dave."

"Would you please quit assuming that what's between us has an expiration date, damn it!? What the hell have I done to you that you have so little faith in me?"

"Nothing, but..."

"That's right, honey. Stop right there because you just said the magic word. I've done _nothing_ to make you think that," Dave replied quietly, cupping her cheek as she tried to turn away again. "And I won't, Jen. I'm all in whether you believe it or not. And hopefully, one day soon you'll start to be convinced of it, too. Until then, I'll keep doing everything in my power to make you see that your doubts are groundless. Okay?"

Softening as she met his dark, sincere eyes, JJ slowly nodded, leaning into his warm touch. "You'll give me time to get used to this?" she whispered slowly, hoping with each word that he meant everything he said.

"As much time as you need," Dave nodded, willing to concede any ground necessary if it mean he would win the war in the end. "As long as you promise me that you'll try, Jen. Try to believe in me."

"I do believe in you," JJ replied truthfully, her words lacking any hesitation. "I just don't know if I believe in myself," she confided uncertainly.

"Lucky for you, I do," Dave returned, brushing his lips gently against hers. "And, now that we've got that much settled between us, you need to start getting ready. Your father and the rest of the team are meeting us at the diner in half an hour. And we need to be on that flight by noon," he reminded her, resting his forehead against hers, wondering if he could delay the rest of the day. Hell, he'd delay the rest of the year if it meant he could stay in bed with her forever.

"Okay," JJ said huskily, sighing against his cheek. Meeting his eyes again, JJ admitted uneasily, "I _do_ want this to work, Dave."

"I know, sweetheart," Dave breathed, brushing a kiss against her cheek. "You've just got to have a little faith."

"Unfortunately," JJ sighed, rising from the bed, "that's a commodity I'm in short supply of."

"Good thing I've got an excess," Dave said softly as the bathroom door closed.


	63. Chapter 62

**Author's Note - Please, everyone, let us know what you think. Thanks for reading!**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-Two**

Stepping into the loud diner, JJ smiled up at Dave as they easily moved through the crowded area. "You sure you're up for another hometown breakfast?" She waved quickly at her friend working the counter, smiling as the frazzled woman threw up a quick hand in greeting.

"Seeing as how this is the only place in town, that automatically makes it the best," Dave answered back, his hand dropped to the small of her back as they navigated around a pulled out chair. "And I don't think we could convince your father to eat anywhere else, so the question's a moot point."

"Good answer," JJ said, her eyes automatically finding her father's grey head in the far corner booth. No matter how many times she saw him, it still gave her a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach to know that he was there, to know that she could always come home to him. That was one of those things that she had never outgrown, and she hoped that she never would.

Looking up as his blonde haired daughter greeted him and kissed his cheek, Locke narrowed his eyes as he took in her pinched face. Waiting until she and Rossi settled in across from him, he asked, lifting his coffee mug, "You sleep okay, Sprite?"

"Just fine, Daddy," JJ reassured him, refusing to give him more information that might cause him to worry. And she had slept okay, in a fashion. Knowing that Dave was in the bed with her had let her relax, to take comfort in the strength of his arms. Trying to divert her father, she asked, looking around, "I guess we're the first here?"

"Don't lie to your Daddy, Jenny," Locke said firmly, arching a shaggy brow as he watched her toy with the edge of the silverware wrapped in a paper napkin. "Could always tell when you were trying to keep something from me, you know. You couldn't keep your hands still, always a-fidgeting." Turning his steady gaze toward Rossi, he smiled grimly, "You noticed that yet, Mr. Profiler?"

Remembering the way JJ's hands had bared the hardened ground with her busy hands out by the pond yesterday afternoon and toyed nervously with the coverlet on the bed this morning as they'd talked, Dave grinned. "Not much escapes my notice when it comes to your daughter, Locke."

"Didn't think it did," Locke snorted, taking another sip of coffee as he peered at his evasive daughter.

Clearing her throat, JJ frowned at the two men currently embarrassing her. "Okay, you two. Enough. I'm fine, Daddy. I'm sitting right here in front of you so you can stop worrying."

"Don't matter how old you get, little girl. I'm never gonna stop worryin'. It's part of the job description," Locke grunted, dropping his coffee cup back to the table. "But since you wanna change the subject so bad, I'll answer your earlier question." Shaking his head, he shrugged as he said, "Nah. Ya'll ain't the first ones to see me this morning."

Stiffening in her seat, JJ inwardly grimaced. God, had Hotch already gone head to head with her father this morning? Without her presence? Damn him. "Wh-what? Who's already been here, Daddy?" JJ asked uneasily, feeling Dave's hand rest reassuringly on her knee.

"Doc Mallard and I had a sit down before ya'll got here. He wanted to get on over and take a look at the bodies. Get his examinations started before the other victim's got here," Locke explained. "He and Jethro talked me through their reasoning for wanting to do another autopsy on your sister. And, I reckon that I can't fault their logic," Locke muttered, looking away, his eyes clouding over.

"Daddy," JJ said softly, reaching across the table to touch her father's clenched hand, "you know that you don't have to let..."

"Yeah, we do, honey," Locke murmured, turning his hand to catch his daughter's fingers in his. "If Lacy can help tell those boys anything about who done this to her, we need to let 'em try. I let my emotions get the better of me last night. I stopped thinking like a cop and was thinking like a daddy. Makes sense, since I'll always be a daddy first, I suppose," he said with a shrug, tightening his fingers around JJ's. "But the fact is, they can't hurt our Lacy anymore. She's beyond the pain. But I think this is what her and your mama would say to do. Don't you?"

"I think Mama would want Lacy's killer brought to justice. Especially if it meant that other lives could be saved," JJ nodded, swallowing hard.

"I agree," Locke averred. "At any rate, Jack and I are gonna ride shotgun with ya'll down to Kentucky. I want to escort Lacy's body back here. Unless you want me to stay with you while ya'll question folks," Locke said with an inquisitive look at his daughter, arching an eyebrow. "I don't wanna leave you alone if'n you need me, baby girl."

"I'll be fine, Daddy. Dave and Gideon will be there. And Anne. It'll be all right," JJ said quietly, hoping she could soothe her father's fears. "I think one of us should be with Lacy until she gets to Doctor Mallard."

Swallowing, Locke bobbed his head. "I...I thought after Ducky finished..." he said, faltering for a moment at the enormity of what was ahead, "afterwards...I thought we'd rebury her beside your mother."

Eyes clouding, JJ bit her lip. "Mama'd like that, Daddy," she finally said softly.

"I thought so, too," Locke replied hoarsely, staring down at their joined hands resting against the table.

Feeling Dave's strong hand squeeze her knee, JJ leaned slightly against his comforting presence, knowing that in this moment in time, she was surrounded by the two men that would protect her to the ends of the earth. Squeezing her father's hand, she smiled tremulously as she said, "Okay, you two are gonna make me cry again, and I've tried not to do that this morning!"

Releasing his daughter's hand, Locke gave it one last pat as he raised his eyes back up to hers. He nodded as he said gruffly, covering his hoarse voice, "Best then that we get some food in you. You look like the east wind could blow you away."

Nudging JJ's shoulder, Rossi muttered, knowingly, "See? I'm not the only one who thinks along those lines."

JJ frowned at both of them as she leaned back against the aged vinyl booth, saying archly, "I think that you've both shared your feelings on that topic at length, thank you very much."

"Then maybe you'll listen this time," Dave said evenly, sliding a sticky vinyl covered menu in front of her. He added, voice firm, "And I suggest you order more than a cup of coffee and a bowl of fruit unless you want me ordering for you."

Letting out a bark of a laugh, Locke nodded toward the other man as he waved a casual hand toward the long counter. "Seems to me Jenny might've met her match, huh?"

"Don't encourage him, Daddy," JJ said with a long-suffering sigh, letting her ankle rest on Rossi's as he slid his leg next to hers. Peering down at the well-used menu, she muttered, "Any chance we can get ole Moe in the kitchen to make a veggie omelet?"

A new voice answered her question. "Sure can, Jenny. Moe'll throw the whole kitchen sink in a batch of eggs if you want."

Jerking her head up, JJ smiled widely as she saw the frazzled face of her friend Molly, the brunette's hair swinging wildly in a messy ponytail. "Molly, you're a lifesaver. Does he really make them or are you just getting my hopes up?"

Propping up against the edge of the Formica table, Molly shifted her order pad in her hand as she grinned at her high school friend. "Now would I lie to you? Besides, he's forgotten all about the time us girls let his prize bull loose into the tobacco field. Kinda strange. Having a passel full of grandkids mellowed him."

"God, I'd forgotten about that. He chased us for a country mile," JJ said, snorting with laughter, her face genuinely happy for a moment as she remembered her carefree childhood.

"Yeah, now I'm worried about my own kids pullin' stunts like we did," Molly said with a roll of her eyes, tapping the order pad against her thight.

"How many?" JJ asked, trying to imagine her old friend as a mother.

"Just two, thank the Lord. Tori is ten and Evan is eight. Your daddy told me that you haven't gotten started yet," Molly smiled, winking. "Trust me, honey, invest in a good supply of valium before you do...especially if you have a boy," she sighed dramatically.

"What'd that whippersnapper do this time?" Locke grinned, always enjoying stories about the little one. Molly's trials and tribulations with her youngest boy were always an endless source of amusement for him and Jack.

"Oh, just rewarded his loving Mama with a four hundred dollar vet bill. I pick up Roscoe this afternoon finally. Doc says he's finally on the mend," Molly replied with a smile toward the elder Jareau. Turning back to JJ's inquisitive gaze, she grinned. "Seemed my youngest thought he'd share a bag of Hershey's kisses with the German Shepherd," she shook her head, wincing at the memory. "And that's just the latest in my son's list of black marks."

"He's a good boy, Molly," Locke smiled as he took another sip of coffee, "Just full of piss and vinegar."

"Well I guess they can't all be full of rainbows and moonbeams, can they?" Molly snorted, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, what can I get ya'll besides that veggie omelet?"


	64. Chapter 63

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-Three**

An hour later, JJ stared down at the remnants of the world's largest vegetable omelet, only a few measly bites left on the edges of her plate. Eyes wide, she looked around at the now full table as she muttered, chagrined, "I can't believe I ate that whole thing. It was huge!"

Grinning at his daughter, Locke nodded as he took as sip of his coffee. "'Bout time you put some real food in your gullet. Moe's eggs'll stick and do you some good."

His arm wrapped around JJ's shoulder, Rossi echoed Locke's comments. "Think we can drag this Moe person with us to Kentucky? If he'll cook stuff that JJ'll eat, he's worth his weight in gold."

Wiping her mouth as she pushed away her own plate, Anne nodded from her position beside Gideon at the end of the table as she said, "You can try, but Moe would no more leave the diner than Molly would. They're both town institutions. Half the population would send out a posse if either one of them wasn't here to fix their favorite foods."

"Pay no attention to Dave," JJ said, leaning around the man in question to see her old time friend. Rolling her eyes, she explained, "He thinks Kentucky's the last frontier on earth. And hopefully we're not going to be there long enough to have to worry about it."

Gideon glanced down at his watch then, frowning as he dropped his napkin on the table. "Speaking of Kentucky, it's about time for us to get moving, don't you think?"

Nodding, Dave picked up the check from the center of the table just as Locke Jareau reached for it. "JJ and I need to swing back by the hotel for our bags. What do you say we all meet at the tarmac in an hour?"

"Sounds good to me," Locke replied, trying to swipe the ticket from Dave's hand, his fingers catching air. "It'll give me time to pick up Jack." Glaring across the table at the younger man, Locke frowned, reaching out his hand. "Gimmee that, Boy."

"I don't think so," Dave grinned, patting JJ's leg as he began sliding out of the booth. "Deal with your father, would you?"

"Nuh uh," JJ grinned, shaking her head as she grabbed Dave's hand. "This is between the two of you."

Rolling his eyes as he pulled JJ up, Dave growled, "We invited you to breakfast, Locke."

Seeing her father open his mouth to object again, JJ patted his hand, smiling gently. "It's on the Bureau, Daddy."

Snorting, Locke settled, grumpily, "In that case, tell 'em to fix me another cup of coffee to go. Least they could do for all the trouble they've caused."

Grinning as he guided JJ toward the front of the restaurant, Dave murmured, "Your father hasn't changed in over twenty years. He didn't have much use for the Bureau back then either."

"Old habits...you should have seen him when I told him I'd gotten accepted at Quantico. You'd have thought the earth had turned on its axis," JJ laughed lightly, looking over her shoulder as her father, Gideon and Anne slowly followed.

Smiling at Dave as he handed the ticket to Molly across the counter, she heard her father call out over the noise of the diner, "Nick! Just the boy that I wanted to see this mornin'!"

Turning her head, JJ watched as her father shook the horse trainer's hand as he took a seat on the stool in front of the counter.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Jareau?" Nick grinned good-naturedly, nodding to JJ and Rossi as Molly rang up their ticket.

"Gonna be out of town for the night, son. I was hopin' you wouldn't mind tendin' the horses for me this evenin'."

"Not a problem at all, Mr Jareau," Nick replied genially, propping an elbow on the aged counter. "Goin' far?"

"Further than I'd like," Locke muttered with a glare towards Jason, his eyes narrowing. "Gotta go take care of a loved one."

Looking from JJ to Locke, Nick asked slowly, "This got somethin' to do with that murderin' bastard, Mr. J?"

"No one can comment about the ongoing investigations," Gideon declared formally, cutting off any reply Locke might have made.

"Oh, I apologize," Nick said uncomfortably, shifting against the vinyl stool as he propped a booted foot on the metal rail. "I didn't mean to overstep."

"Don't mind him," Locke snorted, jerking his head at Jason with a roll of his eyes. "Evidently, big city g-men don't feel the need to mind their manners," he growled, glaring again at Jason as Anne chuckled softly.

Holding out her hand toward her one-time date, Anne grinned, "How ya doin', Nick?"

"Fair to middling," Nick grinned, shaking Anne's hand warmly. "Been meanin' to call you, Annie. Thought you might like to go out to supper over in Greenlawn next week," he murmured, dropping his eyes shyly as he dropped the woman's hand.

"Sounds great, Nick. Just call me," Anne grinned, nodding happily.

"Provided you're still not on the case," Gideon muttered under his breath as he watched Nick watching Anne.

"Provided," Anne said, inclining her head toward Jason as she shot him a confused look, wondering what the older man had against her personal life.

JJ kept one ear on the conversation among her friends as she chatted with Molly for a moment while she made change, smiling as Dave pocketed the coins and handed Molly the larger bills for a tip.

"Oh, no, Agent Rossi," Molly objected, holding up her hands and shaking her head as she saw the amount he was passing over the old-fashioned register. "That's entirely too much. I can't take your money."

"Think of it as a down payment on your next vet bill," JJ laughed as she pulled the bills out of Dave's hand, pressing them into Molly's apron pocket. "Your dog and your son will appreciate it!"

Blushing slightly as she grinned at her high school friend, Molly reached over the counter and hugged her, nodding against her shoulder. "You got that right! I dread what that boy's gonna put me through next. His mind's always on the go, always finding ways to get in more trouble than the last time."

Cocking his eyebrow as he draped an arm around JJ's waist, Dave smiled as he said, "Sounds like me when I was a kid. I think my mom threatened to send me to reform school more than once."

About to reply, Molly's expression darkened as she frowned, her eyes narrowing as she looked out the plate glass front window. Turning over her shoulder to see what had upset her friend, JJ asked, quickly, "Molly, what's wrong?"

Shaking her head, Molly muttered over the clatter of plates in the background, "Oh, it's just that Doc Beaumont coming in for his take out order. Gosh almighty, I wish he'd drive out to the highway and give the Waffle House his business just once. He's got the manners of a billy goat and the attitude to match."

Keeping his tone even, Dave asked, casually, "I take it that the doctor's not made any friends during his time in Sunshine."

Rolling her eyes as she grabbed a paper bag off the crowded counter, the harried waitress muttered, "Can't make friends if you ain't friendly to begin with. Doc Beaumont's pricklier than a mama bear with cubs, and far quicker to strike."

"Not quite broke through the Sunshine distrust of strangers, huh?" JJ asked, shifting slightly as another customer dropped his bill and a handful of crumpled dollars on the counter.

"Oh, it's not the Sunshine people that are distrusting," Molly declared, smiling her thanks at a farmer wearing a John Deere hat as he grabbed a toothpick off the counter and sauntered out the door. Lowering her voice, she leaned closer, saying, "Mr. High and Mighty acts like we're all out to get him. I swear he thinks I poison his food on a regular basis!"

Her words faded off as the man in question slid through the open door. Jerking the bag up in her hands, she held it by the tip of her fingers, barely touching the edge. Smiling sweetly, she intoned, "Right on schedule, Doc. The fruit cup's separated from the sausage biscuit just like you wanted."

Beaumont took the bag from Molly's outstretched fingers, careful not to touch her hand in the process. He said, tersely, "Put it on my bill." Turning to head out the door, he hesitated as he saw the gathered group at the cash register. His lips tightened as he nodded at Rossi, his tone clipped, "So you're still here? Thought you'd be running off to save the world now that you've brought in reinforcements."

"Just a few friends we thought might help us gain a leg up on the case, Dr. Beaumont," Gideon said easily, stepping up to stand beside Dave.

"If by a "few friends" you mean a completely separate federal agency determined to wreck this doctor's day!" the doctor snapped out, his eyes narrowing as he glanced from person to peron. "You fools do realize it's flu season, don't you? And this morning, my secretary gets a call from a Special Agent Jethro Gibbs of an agency called NCIS demanding that I cancel all my morning appointments! Do you have any idea what closing the only doctor's office in a thirty mile radius does to my patients?!"

"I'm sure that Agent Gibbs wouldn't have requested a meeting if-..." Gideon began in a conciliatory voice, raising one hand.

"He didn't request a damn thing. Listen here, I've already had your FBI throw me out of my own laboratory. Now, NCIS wants me to spend my morning answering inane questions that can be found in the report that I've already given you all? You have the only information that I could gather, Agent Gideon," Dr. Beaumont ground out darkly, clutching the brown bag closer to his jacket. "It appears to me that you're all merely intent on me sacrificing my busy morning of sick patients for a useless meeting. You realize that a simple phone call would probably accomplish the same thing, don't you?"

"Well, since we're working another aspect of the case, I can't speak to Agent Gibbs' motivations," Gideon replied evenly, his eyes calmly cataloguing the man's body language.

"But I'm sure he'll be happy to note all your complaints," Dave added sarcastically, placing a hand on JJ's back to guide her quickly past the angry doctor, placing himself between her and the man as the moved toward the sidewalk.

"Oh he'll get them!" Dr. Beaumont called to Rossi's departing back. "Each and every one of them," he bit out, glaring at Gideon as he stomped through the glass door and toward his waiting car.


	65. Chapter 64

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-Four**

Sliding appreciatively into the buttery leather seat of the BAU jet, Anne Fortner grinned across the aisle at her long time high school friend. "Honestly, Jenny, you all fly like this all the time? The Sunshine police force can barely afford to keep the sirens working on all the cruisers at the same time!"

Weakly returning the grin, JJ shook her head as she said, sighing, "Trust me, Anne, it gets old fast. The novelty wears off whenever you're spending more time in this plane some weeks than you do in your own bed." She grinned wider then, relaxing a bit more as she motioned toward the front of the plane, "But don't tell Daddy that. He and Mr. Gibbs seem to be having quite a time up there."

Leaning into the aisle, Anne grinned as she watched the two men open and close the various cabinets located at the front of the plane, their looks of amazement evident to one and all. "They look like two young boys on a treasure hunt."

"Been a long time since anyone's referred to those two as young," Rossi snorted from beside JJ, glancing down at his watch as he saw JJ unsuccessfully try to hide yet another yawn.

"Dave!" JJ chastised him, smacking at his arm. "Daddy's aim is still better than mine, so I'd be careful about those little comments."

The group grinned then as they heard the elder Gibbs say loudly, "How many people did you say this flying limo would hold, Jenny?"

"About twenty, Mr. Gibbs, if the plane's full," JJ called back, stifling the laugh that threatened to escape. "But we normally have about five or six so we have room to stretch out."

Muttering as he dropped into the row in front of them, Jackson Gibbs said, shaking his head, "Jethro ain't got nothing like this. Drove me in a plain old car the last time I was in DC. No plane in sight."

"That's 'cause my Jenny's special," Locke Jareau replied, scooting into the seat beside him. "She's in the FB of I, not that military thing your boy does."

Watching JJ carefully while the men droned in the background, Dave frowned as he saw her eyelids droop again for the third time. Dropping the report he'd been pretending to read onto the seat beside him, he surrounded her cool fingers with his. Meeting her startled eyes, he murmured, "Come on, Jen. It's time for you to stretch out in the back for awhile. It's gonna be a long afternoon for you."

Shaking her head quickly, she sputtered a quick denial, squaring her shoulders as she sat up straight. "I'm fine. Really, Dave."

"Save it, Sprite," Locke grunted from across from her, his eyes narrowing. "A good wind would blow you over right now and you know it." Looking at Dave, he nodded. "Take her back there and make her lie down. Sit on 'er if'n you have to," he ordered sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Daddy!" JJ gasped as Dave grinned, pulling her arm gently as he stood.

"You heard your father, Jen," Dave murmured, urging her in front of him and back up the center aisle toward the back of the plane and the bench seats. "I got his permission for physical restraint and everything."

Sighing, JJ tiredly placed one foot in front of the other as the soft chuckles of the other passengers assaulted her ears. "I guess you think you've accomplished something here," she grumbled, throwing herself on the comfortable sofa along one wall of the plane.

"Now, babe, don't pout," Dave chuckled, lowering himself beside her as the voices from the front of the plane faded. Settling back against his seat, he spared a quick look over his shoulder, shaking his head. "You aren't gonna miss anything, sweetheart. Our elder honorary team members are back to exploring the plane. I wonder if the pilot has that cockpit door locked?"

"He'd better, otherwise, Mr. Gibbs and Daddy'll be flying this thing for him," JJ sighed, looking out the window, the fluffy clouds seemingly incongruous with the darkness that seemed to surround her thoughts.

Catching the worried look in her eyes, Dave dropped an arm around her. Feeling her stiffen in his arms, he murmured against her hair, "Don't worry. Nobody can see us back here. Relax."

"I can't," she whispered, some of the tension seeping from her as she settled her back against his chest, his warm hands rubbing against her chilled arms. "I know what we're going back to do." Glancing up at his dark face, she asked, tiredly, "Did you make all the arrangements?"

Nodding, he replied, softly, "I did. The funeral home is going to have a hearse waiting at the cemetery to escort your sister's body back to the plane, honey. Hotch and Emily already had local law enforcement talk to the other victim's families yesterday. Their bodies are already awaiting the plane."

"Lacy's the last," JJ murmured, lifting a shaking hand to push the hair from her eyes, the strands catching around her fingers as she swiped again.

Nodding again, Dave rumbled, "Your father wanted to be there and I can't blame him. But everything is all ready to go upon our arrival."

"Thank you for taking care of things. I just couldn't deal with..." she whispered, her words trailing off as the engines roared beneath their feet.

"Hey," Dave interrupted her, sliding a gentle finger beneath her chin to direct her eyes to his, "That's what I'm here for. You let me worry about the details, okay?"

"But it isn't...you're a world renowned profiler that's been demoted to being my personal nursemaid," JJ said regretfully, her body relaxing even more against him.

"No, I'm a man that's perfectly content to do whatever he needs to do to keep you safe and whole while we solve this case," Dave countered evenly, lacing his fingers with hers as he pulled her tighter, the plane dipping unexpectedly.

"You wouldn't do this for another witness, Dave," JJ corrected, shaking her head.

"You're damn right about that," Dave retorted. "I thought I made it clear last night how I felt and what my intentions were, Jen. Wasn't I clear enough?" he asked softly.

"Don't start," JJ warned quietly, glancing toward the front of the plane for a second. "I wasn't trying to start a fight."

Blowing a steady stream of air out his nostrils as he struggled not to snap at the younger woman beside him, Dave replied slowly, "I know you weren't. I just wish I knew a way to make you understand how important you are to me. I'm not making any sacrifices here, Jen. I'm exactly where I want to be....where I was meant to be."

"Everything's just happened so fast," JJ muttered, resting an ear against his chest, the heavy beat of his heart thumping against her cheek.

"Maybe for you, but this has been a hell of a long time in the making for me," he returned, running his fingers through her hair.

"I knew you were attracted to me...I just thought that's all it was," JJ confessed, pressing into his gentle touch. "An urge...a need...I expected..."

"Me to fuck you last night and walk away?" Dave asked, staring down at the top of her blond head.

"Something like that," JJ nodded against him, wincing at his choice of words. "It might have been easier that way."

"It was never going to happen like that, Jennifer," Dave offered softly. "Not for either of us. You aren't just a need that I can fill and move on. I want you. All of you."

Lifting her head, she stared into his dark eyes. "I don't think you know what you're asking for."

"Perhaps," Dave shrugged. "But I'm going to find out one way or another," he whispered, lowering his head to claim her lips in a slow heated kiss. Drawing back, he ordered gently, "Now, put your head against my chest and close your eyes. I don't much think I'd like being ejected from this plane without a parachute by your father if he catches us doing much more of that."

Giggling, JJ dropped her head back to his body. "Coward." But even as the word was flowing from her lips, her body was already shutting down, heeding his exact command as she let herself relax in his safe arms. And seconds later, she drifted off to sleep, to dream about something other than the nightmare that was now her life.


	66. Chapter 65

**Author's Note - Click the green button, my friends. Let us know your thoughts! Thanks for reading!!**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-Five**

Reaching for the manila folder lying on the plastic wood grain table, Anne Fortner looked down at the pictures, fighting back the wave of horror that still climbed up her spine at the mere glance. Even though she had seen them a dozen times already, it never failed to pull at her soul every time, tugging at the woman and the cop inside her. Just imagining that her long-time friend had once suffered this way was almost more than she could comprehend, in this life or any other.

Drawing in a deep breath, she closed the file and laid it back on the table, leaning her head back against the leather seat as she tried to think of happier moments she'd had with Jenny growing up. A faint smile flitted on her lips for a moment as she remembered horse races through the pasture, hooves and hair flying as they giggled at one another. And all those moments they'd curled up on each other's beds, talking over the latest boy, hairstyle, or chemistry exam. Those were good memories. The airplane rocked underneath her, the thrusting engines louder for just a moment before they settled down to a dull roar. She wasn't sure how long she had been just sitting there, thinking, when she felt the seat next to her move slightly.

Opening her eyes, Anne wasn't surprised to find herself staring into the pale blue gaze of Jason Gideon. Crossing her legs, she met his eyes as she asked, calmly, "Something I can help with you with, Agent Gideon?"

"Call me Jason, Detective Fortner," he replied, his voice just as even as hers.

Cocking an arched brown brow, Anne nodded politely. "Only if you'll do the same. My name is Anne."

"I take it Annie's reserved for those two up there?" Gideon asked with a half-grin, gesturing toward the two older men across from them, their graying heads propped against the leather seats and their eyes firmly closed.

"Trust me, Jason," Anne said with a grin, following his line of sight, "Nobody in Sunshine dares to correct either Mr. Gibbs or Mr. Jareau. They've been around since God was a boy, and they don't hesitate to remind you if you forget."

"I don't see you as the type that would forget much, though, are you?" Gideon asked, his voice conversational as he reached for the file she had discarded minutes earlier.

"Not often," Anne murmured, her eyes watching his every movement. "I've learned a long memory usually serves a person well. It keeps them from repeating past mistakes."

"Ah," Gideon breathed, his fingers rubbing against stiff edge of the cardstock folder. "It must be hard to see this kind of thing," he said softly, holding the file aloft as he spoke

"I'm sure it isn't very easy for you either," Anne replied noncommittally, refusing to look at the folder, the memories of what it held all too clear in her memory.

"No," Jason said slowly, his eyes slowly sweeping her face, assessing her non-verbal cues, "but then, I have the benefit of having seen some pretty gruesome things before. It gives a slightly better frame of reference than you have."

"So, is that your ever so eloquent way of calling me inexperienced, Agent Gideon? I should let you know that I can recognize passive aggression and backhanded insults as well as anyone," Anne replied, her voice containing a slight edge now as she straightened unconsciously in her seat, the leather giving underneath her slight weight.

"Interesting," Gideon murmured, watching the color climb in the young police officer's cheeks.

"What?" Anne snapped, wondering, not for the first time, how Jenny could have worked with this man as long as she did.

"How you took a simple statement and contorted it into an insult. It was neither my intention nor my meaning," Gideon stated evenly, watching as a flash of sunlight slipped through the porthole window, flashing off her smooth cheek.

Seeing the calculating look etched into the angular planes of his face, Anne bit out, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't analyze me. No one particularly enjoys being looked at like a bug under the microscope."

Nodding, Gideon pursed his lips at her words. "Occupational hazard," he murmured, neither apologizing or excusing his actions.

"One that should be overcome," Anne replied, forcing herself to keep from clenching her fingers against the armrest. Knowing this insufferable man, he would mistake the action for insecurities about flying or some other complete oddity.

"Tell me, Officer Fortner," Gideon asked, stretching his feet out in front of him as he settled into the seat, "Have you never found yourself naturally applying the skills of the job to your personal life?"

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand your question," Anne answered tersely, wondering if her friend would object to having this man thrown out of a moving plane. She would be compassionate. She would wait until they were at a lower altitude so he wouldn't have so long to fall. But she was still certain that the splat would be satisfying, for her.

"I think you understand far more than you let on," Gideon replied, casting his eyes to the side as he watched her facial expressions. "You must have recognized certain characteristics in people that you wouldn't have been able to notice without the training you've received as a law enforcement officer. It's the nature of the profession."

"Are you asking me if I profile people? Are you sure you're not confusing my job with yours?" Anne shot back, staring at his silhouette.

"Actually," Gideon replied with a thin smile, her words catching a part of him that he thought had been dormant, "I don't technically have a job anymore. I'm retired. I've simply returned to fulfill an old debt."

"To whom?" Anne asked, watching a shadow cross over his face, his jaw clenching for a bare second.

"Mostly to myself," Gideon said honestly, confiding in this woman that, for some reason, he trusted. "I needed to prove to myself that I could still do this."

"Just like every has-been quarterback...you want one last game to make the make it or break it play," Anne said with a shade of bitterness, visions from long ago slipping through her thoughts unbidden.

"Pardon me?" Gideon asked tightly, narrowing his eyes on the attractive woman beside him. Had she actually just referred to him, a world renowned profiler, skilled in the fine art of extracting unwilling memories from a subject's psyche, of being a has-been?

"I don't think I stuttered, Jason," Anne replied, keeping her eyes trained on the front of the plane, looking neither left nor right. "You were once a star in your profession and now, you want to shine again. Personally, I find that a pretty pathetic reason to be here."

"And, again, I think you may be allowing your personal experiences to color your professional judgments," Gideon snapped, leveling his feet against the floor as the plane rolled against an air current. "You don't know anything about me other than what your amateur profiling skills tell you."

"Oh, I think I see things perfectly clearly," she rapped out, her fingers digging into the leather armrest as she rode out the dip in altitude. "With both you and Agent Rossi," she added.

"Well, please," Jason said, gesturing with his hand, tightening his jaw again, "don't keep me in suspense. I'm intrigued. Since you appeared to have garnered our ulterior motives, enlighten me."

"Due respect, sir, but you really don't want to know what I think," Anne declared uneasily, crossing her legs as the plane reached a level zone again.

"On the contrary, I'm enthralled. Obviously you've been watching this little drama unfold. I'm curious as to what your thoughts are on the matter," Gideon replied implacably. "We've got at least two and half more hours in the air, Anne. And you should know, I can spend each one of those minutes harassing you about the issue. I'm very talented at extracting answers from unwilling subjects."

"Perhaps," Anne said, nodding, the slight sound of snoring reaching her ears, the elderly men deep asleep. "But I don't think you can hypnotize me without my cooperation."

"Stubborn little thing, aren't you?" Gideon said with grudging respect.

"You have no idea," Anne drawled, crossing her arms over her chest as she settled in for a long flight.


	67. Chapter 66

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-Six**

"Come on, Red," Gideon teased, leaning more comfortably into his seat. "Give the profiling thing a go," he urged, waving a hand in the air. "Tell me about Rossi back there," he said, jerking his head toward the back of the plane.

"Red," Anne snorted with a roll of her eyes, her lips tightening. "How original," she muttered.

"Fine," Gideon sighed, realizing, not for the first time, that this woman was definitely not going to make one single thing easy for him. "Pick your own nickname."

"How about Anne?" Anne prompted with fake enthusiasm, her lips pulling up in a mock smile.

"All right, Anne," Gideon said slowly. Refusing to react, he returned to the original topic. "Tell me about Dave? If I'm the quarterback, which I disagree with, by the way, who is Rossi in this scenario?"

"That isn't obvious?" Anne asked with a faint smile, her eyes meeting his.

"Evidently not," Gideon muttered.

"He's the quintessential bad boy with a heart of gold," Anne said evenly, her fingertips running over the edge of her practical nails.

Snorting, Gideon stared at her in disbelief. "Now you're just kidding me. Nobody in their right mind's gonna accuse Dave Rossi of a heart of gold. Hell, half the Bureau would swear he didn't have a heart at all, let alone one made from precious metal."

"They would be wrong," Anne said calmly, refusing to rise to the bait that was being thrown in her direction. Glancing over her shoulder at the woman they were all protecting, she hoped her friend appreciated the effort she was putting forth in playing nicely with Jason Gideon. Because, truth be told, her first instinct was still to throw the man out the escape hatch. And the use of a parachute was definitely optional.

"So if Rossi's playing the part of James Dean," Gideon asked, rolling his eyes as he made the statement, "what part is JJ playing in this warped high school confidential?"

"Again, you haven't figured that out already?" Anne asked, unable to resist provoking him in just the slightest.

"I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't interested in your opinion," Gideon replied, his eyes staring at her profile, watching as she seemed to be enthralled with the state of her manicure.

"Jenny's the homecoming queen, the damsel in distress who happens to have her very own protector, all wrapped up in the proverbial black jacket," Anne replied assuredly, turning to stare at his doubting face.

"You spin a good yarn, I'll give you that," Gideon commented, shaking his head as he considered her analysis, his mind rolling in multiple directions over that piece of information. Not that he would ever admit it to her, but her skills were sharper than he had first given her credit for.

"High praise indeed, coming from the quarterback," Anne shot back, one eyebrow cocked.

"But I thought it was always the quarterback who got the homecoming queen in the end," he added, meeting her steady gaze with one of his own.

Snorting, Anne smiled tightly as she shook her head, her hair bouncing against her ears. "Well, I'm not sure about your story, but in mine, he ended up with the class president." Pausing a moment, she turned her face toward his for a glimmer of a second before admitting, "It ended in tears."

Laughing without rancor, Gideon inclined his head slightly. "You had the right sport with me, but for the record, I was a defensive tackle and I married the head cheerleader. It, too, ended in tears," he commiserated, wondering why he suddenly felt a connection with this spitfire. "But you get points for Rossi. From what I know of Dave's clandestine past, he was, indeed, quite the bad boy. He's spent years trying to redeem himself in some form or fashion."

"Do you think he's been successful?" Anne asked with an arched brow, thoughts of her friend's safety flying to the foremost of her thoughts.

"That depends on your definition of success. But my guess is, that if you asked him now," Gideon said with a look over his shoulder at his colleague, his arms wrapped protectively around JJ, "he'd say he was pretty pleased with his progress."

"And my assessment of JJ?" Anne murmured, stretching her cramped leg, rotating an ankle.

"It's quite easy to imagine JJ in that position though I might disagree with the damsel in distress part. I've seen the lady in action. Put a gun in her hand and, believe me, she's nobody's version of a damsel."

Chuckling, Anne murmured, "Now, that is a statement that I couldn't deny even in high school. I can only imagine how she's improved. Mr. Locke has often said she came out of the womb shooting."

"Her abilities in that arena put even the most seasoned agents to shame," Gideon smiled.

"Too bad we couldn't have given her a firearm twenty five years ago," Anne murmured, twisting the grey fabric of her dress pants, once again thinking about those horrendous pictures.

Shifting in his seat as the plane took a small dip, Gideon cast the younger woman a sidelong glance. "Jokes aside, your profile was actually fairly accurate. Perhaps, you should look into the Bureau at some point."

"Do you get extra points when you find a new recruit for you club, Jason?" Anne asked facetiously, her lips quirking as she spoke, her voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping men.

"Hey, I'm officially retired," Gideon shrugged. "When this is done, I'm going back to reading all day and cooking at night. I could give a shit one way or the other. It was just an observation."

"Cooking?" Anne snorted, once again finding herself surprised by this unpredictable man. "Really?"

"Really," Gideon nodded once. "It's a passion...and quite an art form when done correctly."

"I'll take your word on that. Everything I bake comes out of a box," Anne replied evenly, trying to think if she could even remember the last time she had bought the ingredients for a home cooked meal. She couldn't.

"Blasphemy," Gideon shuddered comically at the thought.

"Hey! Don't knock it! I can do a mean Hamburger Helper," Anne teased.

"Now you're trying to make me nauseous," Gid growled distastefully. "THAT is not food. It's sustenance."

"It gets the job done," Anne smiled. "I swore when I left my husband that I had marinated my last steak and prepared my last roast. I've come to the conclusion that I was not designed to be a Suzie Homemaker."

"And yet you refuse to consider a career within the Bureau," Gideon mused aloud, the connection clear in his mind

"I hate cities. And bureaucracy. The Bureau includes both. I think I can still make a difference even in a small town," Anne shrugged, easing her shoulders back against the comfortable seat.

"You make a valid point," Gideon nodded, conceding the point.

"Now, since I've cooperated and answered your questions, maybe, you'd be willing to answer some of mine," Anne said, turning her legs slightly toward the man beside her.

"Shoot," Gideon invited, his palm raising slightly, then falling against his knee. "Just be prepared for me to be as evasive as you when it comes to dodging them."

"Oh, mine are pretty straight forward, Jason," Anne said quietly, her eyes meeting his in a sudden flash.

"Sorta what I expected from you. You haven't exactly lent yourself to beating around the bush," Gideon replied with respect. "I kinda like that part of your personality."

"Remember you said that," Anne warned as she drew in a deep breath. "I want to know why you all pulled out of this case twenty five years ago when all of you had suspicions that it wasn't over."

"A full frontal attack," Gideon murmured, deflecting for a moment as he let the words settle in his mind.

"Not an attack at all," Anne said, shaking her head. "A question posed, Agent Gideon," she corrected, pressing her hand against the rounded edge of the armrest.

"Are you trying to insinuate something here, Anne?" Gideon began, defensive hackles rising as he prepared an argument in his mind.

"No," Anne denied quickly, her head shaking. "I'm trying to understand what exactly I'm stepping into.

Releasing the breath he'd been holding as her blunt response penetrated, Gideon briefly closed his eyes. "Sorry. Even all these years later, it's a sore subject. We left because we were told to leave. In those days, our unit was just starting out. We'd recovered JJ. There was a dead man that had written a suicide note as a confession and we had a boss that wanted to chalk this case up to a win."

"And they had a stubborn son of a bitch sheriff that wanted them gone," Locke said quietly, interrupting as he walked toward them, his shoulders hunched. "I told them to go, Annie. It wasn't their fault. It was mine."

"That's not true," Jason said quickly, leaning up in his seat as he nodded toward the older man.

"We both know it is, son," Locke said softly, meeting Jason's eyes as he wrapped a gnarled hand around the top of the seat beside them, steadying himself in the swaying aircraft. "I tossed 'em out as soon as Jenny went comatose. I was angry. And I wouldn't hear anything that Max Ryan tried telling me. If this is anybody's fault, it's mine."

"The only person responsible is our unsub," Gideon replied, his voice low and steady. "And we'll find him, Locke."

"Before or after he steals another part of my daughter's soul, Jason?" Locke asked quietly, looking toward the back of the plane toward the tiny blonde that he loved more than life itself.


	68. Chapter 67

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-Seven**

Pausing outside the battered non-descript motel door, Agent Jethro Gibbs juggled the plastic container in his left hand while he attempted to gain a better grip on the paper bag in his right. Frowning as he stared at the door knob, he considered the options for getting inside without having to readjust his load once again. Narrowing the field, he pulled one boot covered foot back, intending on using another limb to make his presence known.

Fortunately, the door opened suddenly at that very moment, and he came face to face with the sparkling pale face of the woman he had grown extremely fond over the years. But that fondness didn't help his current situation when she immediately threw her two long arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as he held his packages out to the side, precariously.

"Gibbs!" Abby said happily against his neck, hugging him even tighter as she let out a sigh of relief. "You came."

"Told you an hour ago I'd be here, Abs," he murmured against her silky dark head, pressing a kiss against her dog-ear as she tightened her grip.

"It's been exactly sixty four and half minutes, Gibbs," Abby exclaimed, stepping back to stare at him reproachfully, bouncing on her heels. "You are four and a half minutes behind schedule. You're never behind schedule, Gibbs!"

Using his foot to hold open the door as he propelled her back into the small motel room, Gibbs rattled the paper bag as he stated, raising an eyebrow as he met her scrunched face, "Got caught in a traffic jam."

"In Sunshine?" Abby said incredulously, narrowing her mascara covered lashes as she snatched the plastic cup holder and popped it onto the scarred dresser.

"Backup at the corner market," Gibbs replied, reaching for one of the plastic cups and presenting it to her with a flourish. "I think you requested this."

Eyes widening as she grabbed the straw-topped drink, Abby took a long draw, only to grimace as she slowly pulled her painted lips off of the plastic straw. Shaking her head, ponytails bouncing, she announced, darkly, "What horrible alternate universe have you dragged me to, Gibbs, where THIS," she full body shivered for a moment, "passes for a Caf-Pow? How? How?"

"Best I could do, Abs," Gibbs shrugged. "Not exactly sitting in a booming metropolis right now," he said dryly, reaching for the cup of coffee she'd dropped to the dresser.

"And yet you managed to find your coffee," Abs teased, her husky voice thick with unexpressed laughter.

"Brought it with me. Brewed it in my room this morning," Gibbs informed her tersely, pulling a strong sip. "You about ready?" he asked impatiently.

Snapping her studded collar around her neck, Abby stared at his reflection in the mirror. "Do I detect a smidge of impatience, Gibbs?"

"What you're going to detect is my hand slapping your ass if you don't get a move on," Gibbs muttered around his coffee cup.

"Promise?" Abs flirted easily, wriggling her eyebrows as he turned to stare into the mirror.

Rolling his eyes at her, Gibbs sighed. When would he ever learn not to threaten her with something he strongly suspected she'd enjoy? "Abby," he warned, the one word hanging in the air between them.

Catching the tone in his voice, Abby turned from the mirror to face him head on. "This case has really gotten to you, hasn't it?" she asked quietly, lacing her hands behind her back.

"They all get to me, Abs," Gibbs replied noncommittally. "You know that."

"Not like this, Gibbs. Is it because it's JJ?" Abby asked, remembering the young blonde woman he'd introduced her to a couple of years ago, his affection for the agent obvious even then.

Sighing, Gibbs dropped to the end of the bed, balancing his coffee against his knee. "I guess so. She was special to Shannon and me, Abs," he admitted quietly, letting down the barriers that he normally kept tightly in place. "I knew her history even back then. I guess I'm more worried than I'd like to admit."

Crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed, Abby comfortably nudged his shoulder. "We'll get him, Gibbs. You always do. And from what you've told me and what I've seen, she's got a lot of people in her corner. Garcia was telling me about this Rossi guy last night. Is he the same Rossi that..."

"One and the same," Gibbs chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee as he let his mind relax for the moment.

"Wow," Abs breathed, hooking her ankle over his as she reached for his coffee, taking a healthy swig.

Pulling the Styrofoam cup back out of her fingers, Gibbs tucked it on his other side as he said, warning, "Don't share, Abs. You know that."

"And yet you obviously shared an ex-wife with our gruff yet lovable FBI agent. Tell me, Gibbs," Abby grinned, propping her chin on his shoulder as she asked, batting her eyelids, "Besides Rossi and Fornell, any other FBI agents I haven't met yet that might or might not be sharing one of your former mates?"

"Learned my lesson after the second one," Gibbs muttered, turning his head and coming face to face with her enchanting green eyes, the heavy kohl outlining only serving to emphasis their lightness. "And for the record, don't usually keep Fibbies as friends."

"But you like JJ," Abby pointed out, her hand snaking over his lap toward the Styrofoam cup, only to have her fingers flipped as he raised the cup to his lips.

"She's the exception. The others, not so much. Don't trust 'em," Gibbs growled, swallowing.

"Words to live by," Abby nodded, bouncing her chin against his jacket as she stared longingly at the liquid caffeine. "But from what I hear, and trust me, Garcia chatters like my neighbor's hyper three year when he's mainlining cotton candy, our Agent Rossi's quite trustworthy when it comes to protecting JJ. Seems that he's done quite an impression as a bulldog on the attack. Or maybe it was a cheetah on the rampage. I can't remember exactly what she said, but…"

"I get the picture, Abs," Gibbs interrupted, drawing another sip from his coffee as he felt her shift on the bed, watching as her lithe frame leaned forward gracefully, her hands dropping to her feet to latch her boots into place. His breath stilled for a moment as he watched her prim white blouse ride up in the back, exposing inch after inch of her painted pale skin.

"That's a good thing, isn't it, Gibb?" Abby asked, her voice muffled against her flared skirt as she fiddled with a stubborn latch, sliding forward to get a better grip on the pesky metal.

"Is what a good thing?"

Frowning as she heard the catch in his voice, odd for this time of the morning, Abby bounced up off the bed as she wobbled for a moment in the platforms. Propping her hands on her hips, she said, "Agent Rossi watching out for JJ. That's a good thing, right? I mean, he's going to protect her and everything, isn't he?"

Taking one last gulp of his coffee, Gibbs nodded once as he pushed up off the bed, his knees creaking at the movement. "He'd better. There'll be hell to pay if he doesn't."


	69. Chapter 68

**Author's Note: Had a posting problem earlier. Please make sure you read the previous chapter in case you missed it!**

**The Girl Who Lived **

**Chapter Sixty-Eight**

"I think your dad agrees with that statement," Abby observed with a growing grin, reaching for a bracelet on the top of the ancient television as she snapped it into place.

"You talked to Dad?" Gibbs asked, momentarily surprised, but then asking himself why he was. Nothing about this amazing woman should surprise him anymore. There were moments he actually believed that the woman was as fey as she claimed to be, her intuitive abilities obviously rivaling her scientific acumen.

"He came by the station yesterday afternoon when he heard I was there," Abby answered, flashing him one of her hundred-watt smiles. "Said that he couldn't wait another moment to see the sweet gal that keeps his Leroy in line. Wanted to know how come you don't bring me home to Sunshine to visit more often."

"Dad always enjoyed a pretty girl." Rolling his eyes, Gibbs added gruffly, "And seems that he got the truth twisted a bit. Last time, he came to DC."

"Now, Gibbs, he's your daddy," Abby said easily, patting his chest as she slipped by him. "He was just looking for an excuse to find out what's going on in the case. From what I hear, JJ's pretty special to him."

"She was always one of his favorites," Gibbs said softly, the memories of a lanky, laughing teenage blonde flipping through his mind. "She could run his store as good as he could. Actually managed to get the old man to loosen up, something only Mom had once been able to do. After Shannon and Kelly…" His words faded off for a moment as he shook his head, staring at the peeling wallpaper on the wall. Swallowing, he continued, softly, "After we lost Shannon and Kelly, I think JJ helped hold him together."

"Then that's just another reason we need to find whoever did this horrible thing to her," Abby answered, her words soft, lacking any of their normal jovialness. Pressing her hand against his cheek for a moment, she added, softly, "For all of you."

"Thanks, Abs," Gibbs replied, letting his eyes linger on hers for a moment, the dingy cheap motel room fading into the background as they just stood still, enjoying the connection.

Smiling widely, Abby cocked her head, the two tufts of midnight black hair falling to the side as she added, cheekily, "Now that we've got the touching moment out of the way, I think it's time to get a move on. It takes me ten times as long to accomplish anything around here. Seriously, Gibbs, are all the people in Pennsylvania intent on channeling the Amish? Doesn't anybody believe in the power of technology?"

A ringing cell phone interrupted her tirade, causing Gibbs to raise one brow as he said, drily, "Seems that technology's operating just fine."

Grabbing the phone from the edge of the bed, Abby grinned as she checked the display. Waving the phone in his direction, she chirped, "It's Tony. Wonder what Boy Wonder's got on his mind this morning?"

"Won't know 'til you answer," Gibbs replied, easing his stance as he listened to the young Goth enthusiastically greet his second in command. He couldn't help but notice the way her shiny red lips turned up as she laughed at whatever was being said on the other end of the connection. Giving himself a mental slap upside the head, he refocused his attention to the conversation just in time to hear her say something about speaker phone.

"Gibbs," Abby called, waving her hand to catch his attention, wondering why his eyes had glazed over for a second. "Gibbs, Tony has something to report."

"Start talking, DiNozzo," Gibbs barked out, walking toward the small phone held in Abby's delicate hand.

"And a good morning to you, too, fearless leader," DiNozzo's voice piped through the tinny speaker. "I see that the hometown is hopping, huh? Please tell me you're playing nicely with the Federales. The Director won't take it kindly if you throw one of them off a bridge again."

"You got something to report or are you just deliberately pissing me off?" Gibbs grunted, taking a sip from his coffee cup only to find it empty.

"Moving right along," DiNozzo whipped back, the sound of shuffling coming through the background. "Still working on that hunch of yours, Gibbs. So far, the main line BAU team is cleaner than my grandmother's china. Woman could use a Brillo pad like nobody's business."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs warned, watching as Abby held back another round of laughter, her thin shoulders shaking.

The sound of a sneeze blew through the small speaker, followed by the sound of muffled voices, then Tony came back on as he added, "We're still looking at the other FBI agents who would have any access or contact with Jareau. Nothing to report on the main BAU team, but we're expanding to the support departments."

"Keep searching, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered, meeting Abby's eyes as she cocked her head, her dog ear hanging dangerously to the side as she pursed her lips in his direction.

"Say, Gibbs," Tony started, his voice hopeful over the scratchy connection, "It appears you might need my special brand of capable assistance up there in the boondocks. McGee's coughing and sputtering like a germ fountain. It's cruel and unusual punishment to leave me down her with the human Petri dish. I could hop a Navy transport to Philly and…."

"Later, DiNozzo," Gibbs answered sternly, reaching out for the phone, plucking it out of Abby's outstretched hand as he punched multiple buttons until the screen went to black.

Snatching the phone back, Abby readjusted the display as she shook her head, chastising him, "Now, Gibbs, we've got to work on your sympathetic reactions. And don't think I'm going to let that little nugget of information just drop. Surely you didn't think that any of the Bureau agents had anything to do with this?"

"Can't be too sure, not now," he answered evasively, shrugging his shoulders as he watched her tuck the phone inside the tiny tote on her wrist.

Grinning suddenly, her lips widening astronomically as her eyes widened, Abby demanded, laughing, "And does Agent Rossi know that you're having him investigated? And can I have a front row seat to the fireworks that are gonna explode when he finds out? Please, Gibbs? Pleaassseee?"

"No reason for him to know. And if he was in my shoes, he'd be doing the same thing," Gibbs drawled, cocking a brow as he met her flashing eyes. Watching her bounce over to the dresser, he nodded toward the paper bag. "Figured that so-called Caf Pow wouldn't make the cut. Grabbed a few other drinks that might get you through the morning."

"See, Gibbs, that's why I love you," Abby said with a shining smile, grabbing the paper bag and rummaging happily through the contents. "You're always thinking ahead. You get the special Abby gold star for the day."

"I'm thrilled," he answered drily, hiding the smile that threatened to escape behind his empty coffee cup. Placing a hand on her lower back, he guided her toward the door as he asked, "Now, do you think we can get a move on? I've got a suspect to interrogate and you've got that computer thingamabob to explore."

"Hard drive, Gibbs," Abby corrected, snaking her arm through his as they stepped out into the hallway, the paper bag tucked carefully in her other hand. "Hard drive. And trust me, if there's anything incriminating in the not-so-good doctor's computer files, Garcia and I'll find them in a flash while you're getting the scumbag to spill the goods and making the world safe for all the beautiful people again." Pausing for a moment, she added, softly, "For all of us."

"I'll always keep you safe, Abs," Gibbs answered, tightening his hand against hers just for a second as they stepped out the long hallway into the bright Sunshine sunlight.


	70. Chapter 69

_**Author's Note: Okay, loyal readers, I need opinions. Where do you guys want to see this go? I need a plot direction. Who do you guys like? Who do you want to see more of? Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Oh, and no more new chaps on this one until Monday!**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Sixty-Nine**

She hated graveyards. She always had. Cold, empty places, by virtue of their name devoid of life.

Staring at the backhoe as it slowly scooped layers of packed dirt away from her baby sister's coffin, she realized that now she just had one more reason to despise them. The entire area eerily quiet despite the running machinery, she shivered as the wind wrapped around her body, the cold air penetrating the warm wool of her coat. Nothing new. She'd been frozen since this ordeal had began.

Watching as her father took a faltering step forward only to be stilled by Jack Gibbs' hand as the yellow combine stopped digging, the gears shifting down as it came to a halt, she held her breath. They'd finally reached her. She knew they had.

Holding her breath as Lacy's tiny coffin was raised from the frozen earth, JJ swayed on her feet as her father's choked sob reached her ears, renting the silent air around them.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Dave dropped worried eyes to JJ's pale, unblinking face, her horrified expression twisting his heart. "Jen, there's no reason to do this to yourself, honey. Let's wait in the car," Dave urged softly, pulling her closer as Locke McClellen Jareau slowly made his way forward, his halting footsteps on the uneven ground followed closely by Gideon and Jack.

"N-no. I left her alone once and she got taken," JJ said woodenly, forcing the words out through numb lips. "I have to do this."

"No. You don't. Nobody expects this of you," Dave declared firmly, keeping one eye on the men in front of him. Grimacing as he heard JJ's first broken sob as they watched Locke gently rest his hands against the dusty once-pink coffin, his head bent in defeat, Dave pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as he pushed her head against his chest. Meeting Jason's questioning eyes in the distance, Dave shook his head slightly.

Resting his chin against her soft hair as he ran his hand comfortingly up and down JJ's back, Dave saw Locke's knees buckle, the overwhelming grief felling the seemingly invincible man. And he was thankful he had JJ's face pressed to his chest, knowing that emotional sight would be all it would take to completely break her. Dave watched as Gideon bent to whisper against Locke's ear, easing the man away from his younger daughter's final resting place as funeral home attendants moved forward to lift the little coffin toward the waiting hearse.

"Honey, I think we're ready to move," Dave whispered, tightening his arms around her as he took her weight against him, a ray of sunlight appearing then suddenly hiding again behind the bank of grey clouds hovering over them.

Lifting her head, JJ wiped her eyes as her gaze found her father, his shoulders slumped as he slowly followed his daughter's body. Nodding, she began moving forward, her steps wooden and heavy as the men slid the coffin into the black cavern of the hearse.

Stopping beside her father as they slammed the door, the sound echoing hollowly in the still cemetery, she reached for his aged hand, linking her fingers with his just as she done millions of times in her youth. "Daddy?"

"I'm okay, Sprite," Locke said shakily, squeezing his daughter's cold fingers. "We both knew there wasn't gonna be anything easy about this," he said mournfully, staring tiredly at the hearse ahead of them.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," JJ whispered guiltily, her eyes dropping to the crushed grass, unable to keep her head up any longer. "This is all my fault," she whispered, feeling Dave stiffen behind her.

"Bullshit," Locke said, head rising to turn flashing eyes to his daughter, tilting her chin to face him.

"Amen," Dave muttered, curling his hand around JJ's hip.

"Ain't none of this ever been your fault, Girl. Not from the damn beginning. It's on the head of some faceless bastard I thought I'd killed years ago. One day, I'll have to answer to my Maker for that sin...but not before I dance across the bastard's grave that took Lacy from us. You concentrate on findin' him, darlin'. Not blamin' yourself for sins that aren't yours to begin with."

"Sorry, Daddy," JJ mumbled as her father reached for her, pulling her into his arms, pressing her blonde head into his shoulder. Squeezing her eyes shut to stem the threatening tears, she held on tightly, taking his strength as she'd done thousands of times before. "I really miss her," she whispered against his ear, the words seeping out in broken sadness. "Even after all these years...it feels like yesterday."

"I know, Baby. For me, too," Locke said huskily, tightening his arms around his remaining daughter, almost afraid to let go. "But she's with Mama now...that's the only thought that sometimes gets me through the day now."

"I know," JJ breathed, the words so hard to voice as she felt her chest clench again, a long ago pain resurfacing with emotional accuracy. "I just wish she was here with us."

"Me, too, Sprite," Locke agreed, meeting Dave's eyes over JJ's head. "You take care of her, Rossi," he ordered gruffly, still holding on to his baby as he issued the harsh charge. "I swear to God if you let anything happen to her down here..."

"It won't," Dave said firmly, resolutely meeting the other man's tear glazed eyes head on. "I won't allow it."

Hearing the resolve behind the other man's words, Locke nodded. "I'm trustin' you, Boy. I think you know how hard that is for me, considerin' our collective history," he said with a dark, knowing look toward Gideon.

"Jason'll go through me to get to Jen, Locke. And he won't get to her without a real good reason," Dave said softly, loud enough to be heard by the assembled group.

"Daddy," JJ murmured, pulling back slightly, needing to see his eyes. "They've got a job to do. You know it isn't always pretty," she admonished gently, patting his chest.

"I don't give a flyin' fig about their job," Locke growled heavily. "No more damage comes to my girl," he ordered, looking from Jason to Dave.

"We heard you, Locke, or rather, I guess I should say that I heard you," Jason said quietly, his hands folded behind his back. "But whatever I've put JJ through, I always had her best interests at heart," he added firmly, his tone addressing both the men in JJ's life.

Nodding, Locke grunted, "I might have put you boys on that plane all those years ago, Jason, but you were the first one on it. I've not forgotten either of our roles in it."

Seeing JJ stiffen, Dave stepped forward, unwilling to allow her any more pain than necessary. "Enough," he said softly, looking between the two men. "This isn't helping anything. The past is the past. None of us can change what happened, no matter how much we'd all like to. Now, we need to concentrate on what's in front of us. And that means finding this unsub."

Lip tightening, Locke glared at Dave, a gust of wind whipping around the monument-covered hillside. Finally nodding, he admitted, "You're right. How long do ya'll think you'll be down here?" Locke asked, pulling his jacket a bit tighter.

"Couple of days," Rossi replied evenly. "No more than three."

Nodding, Locke cleared his throat. "I've already called the new Chief. He was one of my deputies back then. You'll have his full cooperation." Looking down at JJ, Locke winked, "You might remember him a little, Sprite. Jimmy Crawford."

"Mr. Jim," JJ said faintly, vaguely recalling a bearded man with a wide smile. "He always carried butterscotch."

"That's right," Locke nodded, patting her shoulder as he sighed again.

"We'll coordinate with him this afternoon, Locke," Dave said softly. "Thank you for making the call for us."

"All right...we'd better get moving," Locke murmured, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to his daughter. "You be careful and listen to Rossi. Understand?"

"I do," JJ nodded, hugging her father once more, letting her arms linger around his thinning shoulders, needing to prolong the contact as long as she possibly could.

"I'll see you when you get back, honey," Locke said, resigned, turning to walk wearily toward the SUV.

"I'm gonna drive them back to the airport," Gideon said softly, guiding Anne towards the vehicle. "I'll call on the way back, Dave."

Nodding, Dave wrapped his arm around JJ as another wisp of cold wind whipped through the graveyard, and Jack Gibbs stepped in front of them.

"Mr. Jack," JJ whispered, staring worriedly at the old man who had been like a second father to her, "you'll make sure that-"

"I'll stay with him until you get home, honey. You just focus on what needs to be done here," Jack soothed, kissing JJ's cold cheek before limping carefully to the running SUV.

Watching as the SUV slowly followed the hearse down the gravel path, Dave felt JJ shudder, her shoulders shaking with silent tears. Holding her against him as she turned into his arms, he tightened his hold on her as she buried her wet face against his neck. "Come on, sweetheart," Dave whispered consolingly, urging her toward the vehicle. "There's nothing here for you anymore."


	71. Chapter 70

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy**

"Where are we going?" JJ asked dully, staring out the SUV's window with unseeing eyes. Pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders, the chill from the cemetery still invading her bones, she tried to control the shiver that suddenly wracked her shoulders.

"You and I are going back to the hotel for the evening. We're going to order you some room service and you're going to rest for the rest of the night," Dave said softly, flicking the heater another notch higher before reaching across the center console to grasp her hand as he navigated the country road ahead of them.

Shaking her head, she swallowed as she muttered, "We need to go to the police station. We could-"

"Tomorrow, Jen. It's already after four. We'll start fresh in the morning after you've had a little recovery time," Dave said firmly, squeezing her fingers lightly as he deftly navigated another sharp curve on the two-lane highway.

"I'm not ill," JJ snorted, pulling her hand away slightly only to have him tighten his grip. "We might as well..."

"JJ, do you remember your father telling you to listen to me?" Dave asked casually, one eyebrow raised as he merely flicked his eyes in her direction.

Sighing heavily, JJ turned toward him, raising an eyebrow of her own. "Low, Rossi. Using my daddy to fight your battles? So beneath you."

"Maybe. But it's effective," Dave shrugged, adding with an even, comfortable voice, "Unless, of course, you want to call Locke and argue with him."

"Go to hell," JJ glared at him, wondering, not for the first time in the last few days, how she had ever managed to have feelings for this egotistical, male chauvinist. Honestly, sometimes she was beginning to think that she was indeed losing her mind.

"There's my girl," Dave drawled, smiling as he stared out the windshield, deliberately pushing those sensitive little buttons in her psyche that he had learned so well.

"Bastard," JJ muttered, jerking her fingers from grasp and crossing he arms over her chest, her eyes burning in his direction.

"You'll forgive me eventually," Dave said confidently, patting her knee as he switched on the blinker, easily passing a rusted red tractor, the driver obviously on a scenic tour of the countryside.

"Don't bet on it," JJ huffed, licking her dry lips as she reached for the bottle of water in the console, a sudden, shallow pothole bouncing her slightly in the leather seat.

Smiling, Dave cast the fuming woman beside him a sidelong glance as she drank from the plastic bottle. Mission accomplished. Already, her eyes looked brighter, her cheeks regaining their rosy glow. He'd do whatever it took to pull her back from that vacant place she sometimes went, that empty look in her eyes scaring him more deeply than he had ever thought possible. Even if he had to piss her off, it was worth it.

Minutes later, the SUV easing through the crowded downtown of her hometown, JJ grinned suddenly as she whispered, forgetting her earlier anger, "I did remember it! It wasn't a dream!"

"What was that?" Dave asked, signaling as he switched lanes as they neared a traffic signal, the electric lights swaying in a sudden burst of wind.

Pointing up ahead, JJ felt herself start to giggle as she explained, eyes bright, "It's the Dairy Shack! I thought I'd dreamed the Dairy Shack! But there it is!"

Grinning at her child-like excitement as he easily found the barn-looking building she was indicating, Dave asked, "I take it that's somewhere you remember from your childhood?"

"I do," JJ agreed, her shoulders hunched forward as she stared out the windshield. "I had convinced myself that it was just a figment of my imagination, all those memories from those days running together too much. " She added, wistfully, "But I'm almost certain they had the best strawberry crème ice cream I've ever tasted. I wonder if they still carry it."

"Well, there's one way to find out," Dave replied as the traffic signal turned, easing the SUV into the parking lot of the small restaurant, his eyes tracking the empty spaces.

"Dave, we don't need to stop now," JJ disagreed, turning to stare at him as he parked in front of a peeling statue of a black and white cow.

"Why not? We can grab whatever you want and take it to the hotel, where I'll tuck you and your ice cream of choice into a nice, comfy bed," Dave answered, reaching over to pop her seat belt. Seeing her eyes start to light up again, he leaned across the console to press a gentle kiss to her lips, murmuring wickedly, "I think we can find many uses for that ice cream, don't you?"

Returning his kiss, JJ laughed, "We don't waste good strawberry ice cream down here, Dave. Even if it is the middle of winter," she said against his lips, reaching for the door handle with the excitement of a school girl on summer vacation.

And an hour later, as he watched her curled into the center of the bed, hand still clutched around her half empty pint of ice cream, he could only grin. Rosy cheeks, relaxed face, and a hopefully full belly, she was a beautiful sight. And for the moment, he knew she was content and resting, having dropped off about fifteen minutes ago mid-spoonful.

Gently removing the cold carton from her clutching hand, he tucked her cool fingers under the blanket covering her and brushed a kiss against her hair. Something so small had made her happy...had made her smile. So different from any of his ex-wives. It didn't take diamonds or trinkets to satisfy her...a simple scoop of ice cream had softened her gaze and earned him a sweet kiss.

And now, she was finally sleeping. The evening was off to a great start, his plan well under way. He had promised her father that he would ensure her safety, and that meant mentally as well as physically.

Glancing up as he heard a soft knock against the door, he frowned deeply at the intrusion. Hurrying to open the door before the offensive noise could disturb her, he nearly reached for Jason Gideon's throat as he stepped into the hallway, shoving the other man backward with a firm hand. "Can't you read, Gideon?" Rossi hissed angrily, jabbing a finger at the do not disturb sign hanging from the door knob. "I just got her to sleep."

"Damn it, Dave! Then answer your fucking phone! I've been calling you for over an hour," Gideon snapped in a low voice, his pale eyes flashing as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"It was on vibrate and I guess I left it on the dresser," Dave retorted, his eyes narrowing even more. "What the hell do you want, anyway? I told you, she's done for today. The cemetery was enough for her, damn it. You aren't going to push her the way you did twenty-five years ago."

Eyes flashing, Jason took a step forward, pulling one hand up into the air. "First Anne, now you! Why the hell do you all assume that I'm trying to push her? I'm trying to help her, damn it! Before this loose cannon actually manages to find what he's been searching for! Time's running out, Rossi. You know it and I know it!"

"In case you're forgetting, I saw her after that last regression, Jason. All night, I was there. I won't let you screw with what little control she's managed to find. Not tonight," Dave said firmly, shaking his head emphatically as he glanced down the hallway, the sudden closing of a door catching his attention.

"Well, for your information, I happen to agree with you. I came to see if you and JJ wanted to join Anne and me for supper. I'm still waiting to hear from Hotch on Dr. Beaumont's interrogation. Reid says they've been in the hole with him all day."

"No," Rossi muttered, drawing his eyes back to Gideon. "I don't want to wake her. We'll get something when she gets up. But call me when you hear from Hotch," Dave ordered tersely, casting his eyes over his shoulder at the open door to their room.

"Then answer your fucking phone," Gideon retorted with a glare, his lips tightening. "Or would you rather I come pound on your door in the middle of the night?"

"Depends on if you feel like going back to Pennsylvania in traction," Dave smiled grimly, actually enjoying the idea of sending Jason Gideon to the local infirmary. It might just turn out to be an excellent emotional release for all involved.

"Bring it," Gideon snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I swear to God, between you and Red, I don't know why I bother even opening my mouth. She's spent the afternoon making backhanded insults about everything from my profiling skills to my choice in footwear. Damn woman has made passive aggression into an art form," Gideon grumbled under his breath, shuffling his feet uncharacteristically against the worn shag carpet.

"You like her," Dave accused with twinkling eyes, wondering how JJ would like to know this new piece of information.

"Yeah, Dave, like a bullet in my ass," Gideon snapped, jerking his head up as he squared his shoulders.

"Liar," Dave replied softly, shaking his head. "She's got spirit. There was a time when you liked a woman with spirit."

"She's half my age," Gideon replied through tight lips, uncomfortable with the sudden attention on his personal feelings. "Not all of us feel comfortable robbing the cradle," he said acerbically, needling Dave.

Unwilling to rise to the bait, Dave shrugged as he grinned. "Keeps a man young, Jase. You oughta try it sometime. You might find that she's exactly what you need. God knows, I feel like a new man."

"Too bad you don't look like one," Gideon smirked as he turned, walking back toward his room at the other end of the corridor.

"Asshole," Dave growled at his retreating back, trying not to chuckle as Gideon lifted his middle finger before disappearing into his room.


	72. Chapter 71

**_Author's Note: Many thanks to everyone reading and reviewing this story. We really appreciate hearing from you. Please continue to enjoy!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-One**

His hand on the worn door knob, Leroy Jethro Gibbs paused, irritated, as he heard his name being called. Turning toward the sound, he met the dark eyes of Aaron Hotchner. Cocking an eyebrow as he took a sip from his new cup of coffee, Gibbs asked calmly, "Something I can do for you, Agent Hotchner?"

Nodding, Hotch motioned toward the closed door, his shoulders squared under his requisite suit jacket. "I'm planning on joining you."

"Don't normally like to share my interrogations with the FBI," Gibbs replied, his eyes calm as he measured the responses of the man who headed the BAU.

"And I don't normally like to share my investigations with NCIS," Hotch answered, his voice even and unaffected, stepping to the side as a pair of chattering clerks slid past them in the narrow, dark hallway.

"But you did," Gibbs commented, drawing another sip of the fortifying caffeine, refusing to wince at the harsh bitter aftertaste. Never should have trusted cop shop coffee.

"I did because my agent is on the line," Hotch said firmly. "And besides, from what I've heard about you, you're going to need a partner. Can't do good cop bad cop without one." He paused, then added, drily, as he raised one black brow, "Or so Agent Fornell said."

"Low trick, Hotchner, going behind my back to get dirt from Tobias," Gibbs grumbled, hiding a grin behind his coffee cup. "Man never did learn that loose lips sink ships."

"He's a fount of information," Hotch agreed, his face purposely blank as he merely nodded. Holding up the small generic folder he had tucked in his right hand, he added, "And I've got the latest information on our suspect."

"Anything usable?" Gibbs asked, reaching for the folder as he threw the empty coffee cup into a nearby trashcan, the Styrofoam catching on the edge of the plastic liner. Scanning the papers, he asked, "You think he's good for this?"

"Almost seems too easy," Hotch admitted, stepping to the side in the hallway as a uniformed deputy led an older woman down the long hallway. "But he's got the background to make me think he could have had a hand in it."

"Well, let's go fishing," Gibbs sighed, closing the file. But just before he opened the door leading to the station's only interrogation room, he murmured over his shoulder, "But don't forget, Hotchner. I'm the bad cop."

"Never doubted it," Hotch snorted, following the grey headed man into the tiny grey room.

Jerking up his head as he heard the door click, Dr. Beaumont snapped angrily, his hands resting on the back of a scarred, well-used chair, "What the hell is going on here? I resent being treated like a common criminal and kept against my will. I will be filing a complaint with whoever is in charge immediately."

Pulling a small pad out of his pocket, Gibbs dropped it onto the battered metal table, sliding it across to the agitated man. "Be our guest," he said genially, dropping down into a chair and leaning back comfortably. "Be sure to mention that you came in on your own volition."

"I'm assuming you're the Agent Gibbs I spoke to on the phone?" Beaumont barked out, his eyes flashing as he glared at both agents equally.

"I am," Gibbs agreed, nodding once. "And you are Dr. Clayton Beaumont. Medical doctor, right?"

"What gave it away?" Beaumont sneered, waving a hand against his clothes. "The white coat? The stethoscope?"

"Funny guy," Gibbs nodded, grinning for a split second before he let his face return to his neutral expression. "Good. You're gonna need that sense of humor over the next few hours, Doctor."

"Oh, good," Beaumont snorted sarcastically, "More cryptic speak from two of our nation's finest. Tell me, where are the good Agents Rossi and Gideon this morning?"

"If I were you," Hotch said conversationally as he took a seat in a battered metal chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the aged table, "I'd thank whatever God you worship that it's us that you're talking to."

"And why is that?" Dr. Beaumont snapped, shifting his eyes from man to man, his pale eyes flashing with barely suppressed rage.

"Oh, we'll get to that, Clayton," Gibbs replied with a grim smile, revealing nothing as he measured the rising level of agitation in his suspect. "Have a seat."

"Dr. Beaumont," he corrected coldly, his icy stare colliding with Gibbs' assessing eyes as he dropped unwillingly into the chair next to him.

"If you insist on the formality," Hotch said with an inclination of his head, deliberately shrugging lightly as he kept his voice casual. "We were attempting to keep this as informal as possible."

"Look, you two have pulled me out of what looked to be an exceedingly busy day in my private practice. If there's a point to my being summoned here, I wish you'd get to it," Beaumont snorted impatiently, leaning back in his wooden chair and crossing his arms angrily over his chest. The aged wood protested the sudden movement, wobbling on unsteady legs.

"Small town and one established doctor," Gibbs shrugged, leaning back in his chair as the tips of his fingers tapped methodically against the table. "Makes sense, I guess. Question is, Doc, exactly how established are you?" Gibbs asked, his laser-like blue eyes drilling the doctor across the table.

"Meaning?" Beaumont snorted impatiently. "I assure you that I'm in good standing with the AMA."

"Where'd ya go to medical school, Doc?" Gibbs asked, tilting his head as he stared at the other man.

"Not that it matters by I studied at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences," Beaumont frowned, his eyes darting from one inquisitor to the other.

Smiling grimly, Gibbs nodded as he flipped open the file in front of him, the cardstock folder snapping sharply against the table. Scanning the first page, he looked up. "What do you know? That's what I've got here, too."

Raising an eyebrow, Beaumont asked, his tone cold, "Am I under suspicion, Agent Gibbs?"

"Should you be, Doctor?" Gibbs asked, deliberately vague. "Got anything you need to confess to us. We're all ears," he said, gesturing toward Aaron.

"Of course not," Beaumont declared, shifting in his seat as he looked between the two agents in front of him, "And, for the record, I resent the implication that I might somehow be involved in this," he added angrily, his voice rising with each word.

"Noted," Gibbs said absently, looking back down at the page in front of him.

"Dr. Beaumont," Aaron said easily, raising a hand in the universal sign of peace and cooperation, "we're simply trying to fill in all our blanks. Please, give us just a few minutes of your valuable time. We certainly don't want to keep you from your patients any longer than absolutely necessary."

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner," Dr. Beaumont said, sitting a little straighter in his chair. Glancing pointedly at Gibbs, he added, "At least one of you seems to comprehend my importance to the citizens of this town."


	73. Chapter 72

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-Two**

Stretching languidly as she awoke to the sound of off-tune humming coming somewhere from the vicinity of the bathroom, JJ smiled unconsciously. Rolling to her side, pillowing her cheek in her hand, she listened to the tune continue...some obscure Rat Pack melody, she assumed. His musical tastes, she'd learned over the last several days, seemed to be locked inside the Fifties. She was fairly certain that they definitely hadn't made it out of the Sixties, and probably hadn't even heard of the Seventies.

Not that she was complaining. While the man couldn't carry a tune if his life depended on it, he had definitely made up for it in many, far more important ways. Snuggling back into her pillow as she felt herself relaxing in the warm bed, she let her eyes close again as a smile drifted lazily on her lips.

Stepping out of the small hotel bath, towel wrapped around his waist, Dave immediately glanced over at the king-sized bed, needing to assure himself that the woman he had left ten minutes ago was indeed still sleeping.

And she appeared to be, her blonde hair barely showing from under the edge of the blue and grey comforter that she had sleepily pulled almost over her head, her hand tucked close to her cheek. Quietly dropping both their phones on the nightstand as he smiled at that site, he eased the hotel phone receiver back onto the hook. The last thing he had wanted was for her to be awakened by some confused hotel front desk employee accidentally ringing the wrong room.

Grabbing his go bag to rummage for a change of clothes, Dave caught the sound of a faint stirring behind him. Turning softly, he found himself staring into the bright blue gaze that he'd come to know and love so well.

"Hey," he murmured, moving to perch on the edge of the bed, shaking his head at her inquisitive eyes, "You need to go back to sleep, honey."

Yawning underneath the covers, JJ rolled her shoulders as she pulled the comforter tighter against her, smiling as she let her eyes roam over his bare chest. "Not sleepy anymore. I think the sugar coma wore off."

"Well, if that's what it takes to get you to sleep, then I guess I'm going back to the Dairy Shack to grab another pint of that miracle ice cream," Dave replied with a smile, dropping a gentle finger to her slowly emerging face, sweeping a loose lock of pale hair off her sleep-flushed cheek.

"Nuh uh, I can't eat like that every day," JJ murmured, slowly easing up to prop against the surprisingly comfortable pillows as she leaned into his touch.

"You can and you will. You've lost enough weight already, babe," Dave growled, shaking his head as he propped next to her, trailing a finger against the edge of her protruding clavicle, her shirt dipping just enough to highlight the exposed bone.

"Not gonna argue with you, Dave," JJ declared, yawning delicately as she blinked slowly, letting herself become completely accustomed to the low lights in the room. Sighing, she asked as she tried to look around him, searching for the alarm clock, "I feel like I've slept forever. What time is it anyway?"

"Little after seven," Dave answered, snaking an arm behind her shoulders and pulling her against him, sinking them both deeper into the warm bed. "Start thinking about what you want for dinner and I'll call room service."

Nodding against his bare shoulder, she whispered, "Speaking of what I want, I thought of something I want to do, Dave."

"Start talking," Dave ordered gently, rubbing a soft hand against her warm shoulder, feeling his body tighten automatically at the way her soft skin felt against his touch.

"While I was asleep, I had strange dreams. Dreams about living here, about my family," JJ started slowly, letting her mind work through the thoughts as she spoke. "I thought about the man that was accused of hurting us. About his family." Raising her eyes to meet his, she whispered, "I know he had a family, Dave. I want to talk to his wife, to someone who knew something about him. There has to be a reason he was there, at the cabin at that time, doesn't there?"

Shifting stiffly beside her, Dave's lips tightened as she glanced up at him, his thoughts already darkening at the path this conversation was taking.

"No. Nuh uh," JJ began, shaking her head as she felt his muscles tighten beneath her. "I know that look. You're going to try and talk me out of what I want to do."

Holding up a hand, Dave said slowly, "No, I'm not. I'm just going to ask you to think about it before you make a decision, JJ." Turning slightly on the bed to face her, he dropped one hand against her hip, tugging her closer. "You're talking about talking to the widow of the man your father mistakenly shot and killed, honey. A man that his wife probably thought was innocent, then and now."

"And she'd have been right. All these years, Dave. She deserves to know that," JJ said determinedly, pressing a hand against his muscled chest. "Someone needs to tell her that her husband wasn't a monster."

"And that, too, remains debatable. As you said, why the hell was he at that cabin that night? He left a suicide note, Jen," Dave reminded her evenly, those long-ago horrible events burnt indelibly in his memory.

"That you know, as well as I do, could have been coerced," JJ retorted, her tone the same as she had used in many press conferences. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she sighed as she tried to gather her thoughts. "If I could just remember," she groaned, rubbing her temple as the familiar dull ache began behind her eyes.

"Hey," Dave murmured gently, easing her hand away from her head, tucking it into his. "Don't do that to yourself. You'll remember what you can when you can."

Rubbing her cheek against his warm bare chest, JJ sighed. "I need those memories now, Dave. Maybe seeing her...maybe it will trigger something."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Dave grumbled, burying a hand in her mussed hair, twining a silky strand around his fingers. "Why don't we let Anne and Gideon handle this one, babe?"

"No," JJ said flatly, drawing in a deep breath, letting the air cleanse her lungs. "I want to see this woman myself. I want her to see me. I've got to make her understand how important it is that if she knows anything that could help us, that she tell us. And no offense, but Jason Gideon isn't exactly a people person."

"Honey..."

"Let me put it another way, Dave," JJ said implacably, her words holding steady in the otherwise quiet room. "I'm doing this. With or without you. Now, are you calling Garcia and getting the information we need or am I?"

"Damn it, JJ," Dave growled, letting out a deep sigh as he felt her shoulders stiffen, "You know damn well that I'm not gonna let you go off alone to see some woman that might be holding a grudge."

Lifting her head, JJ looked up at Dave's tense face. Cocking her head, she narrowed her eyes as she said, "She's got a right to her grudge, David. Her husband was innocent."

"Her husband was there. He might not have been the unsub, but..."

"But we owe it to him, his family and ourselves to find out what the hell was exactly running through his mind that night," JJ said steadily, her hand flattening against his bare chest, his heart beating strongly beneath her touch.

"Have I mentioned that you're a real pain in the ass in the witness department?" Dave grumbled, tightening his grip on her.

"Uh huh. Except we both know that I'm not the average witness, am I?" JJ smiled, her eyes crinkling as she leaned forward, dropping a simple, soft kiss against his lips.

"You aren't the average anything, Jen," Dave replied, staring down into her sparkling eyes as she pulled back. "Unfortunately, you also happen to be right in this case. We need to know what this guy's widow knows...and hope that she'll be willing to talk twenty-five years later."

"I happen to know that between the two of us, we can be fairly persuasive," JJ said confidently, sliding her hands through the mat of curls on his chest, his muscles rippling as he reached for his phone.


	74. Chapter 73

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-Three**

Wincing as he heard the sound of a metallic crash, followed by a well-salted string of invectives, Derek Morgan quickly pushed open the thin, hollow door. Stepping into the war room that Penelope Garcia had quickly commandeered in the small Sunshine police station, he shook his head as he watched her violently kick the side of an already battered filing cabinet.

"Whoa there, Mama," he called out, his long legs eating the linoleum as he reached out to gently grab her arm before she managed to wallop the cabinet again. "Now what did the office furniture do to deserve such treatment?"

"It's lucky I didn't set it on fire and throw it out the window," Penelope muttered darkly, wincing as she felt an ache start in her toes. Sighing as she met his patient dark-eyed glare, she added, grudgingly, "I'm not going to hurt my babies, even though they're being completely and totally useless in my hour of need. So I decided that this handy-dandy filing cabinet would serve as an excellent punching bag."

"I'm sure your foot has a different opinion," Morgan disagreed, propelling her back toward the waiting office chair as he watched her bounce slightly on the opposite foot. "Now keep your gorgeous fanny in that seat until I say you can get up, you hear me?"

"Oooohh, I just love it when you go all cave man on me," Penelope cooed, rolling her eyes as she swatted at his not-so-helpful hand, settling into the not-so-comfortable chair.

Propping on the edge of her makeshift desk, he looked at the various computer monitors and connections strung about the room. Flipping through a stack of printouts, he asked, tiredly, "So I assume it's safe to say that we haven't gotten any further on any of the leads yet?"

Shaking her wildly colored head, dyed locks flying in all directions, Garcia leaned back in the semi-comfortable chair as she answered, "Nope. Nada. Zilch. Abby's gone back to our oh-so-wonderful motel to grab a converter she had the great foresight to bring with her, which I'm hoping will help us boost some of the power needed to run more than one search at a time."

"Nothing on Beaumont's hard drive?" Morgan asked, watching carefully as she rolled her shoulders from side to side.

"According to the man's electronic history and cached files, he's a boy scout who spends most of his time running an accounting program from the Dark Ages and receiving text-only emails from the CDC and his sister," Garcia supplied, waving a manicured hand toward a wavering screen in the corner. "But we've still got miles to go before we sleep, so never fear, my Hershey Kiss. If it's there, we'll sniff it out quicker than you can sing "JJ and Rossi, sitting in a tree"."

Cocking his eyebrow as he smiled at that statement, Morgan whistled softly, "Took the old man long enough. I thought he was never going to make his move. Although he picked a hell of a time to actually pull his head out of his ass."

Glancing down as a sudden chirping sound invaded the small room, Penelope smiled brightly as she reached over to click her phone. Leaning back in the almost-broken chair, she sing-songed, "Speak of the devil. You have reached the annex office of All Things Bright and Wonderful. Please state your desire and your personal Fairy Godmother will grant your every wish."

"Oh, I've got a few wishes you could grant for me, Garcia. I just don't think they're your average PG rating," David Rossi chuckled from the other end of the phone.

"Ah, I think you want the Office of Special Dispensation for Sexual Favors," Garcia grinned, propping one heel shod foot against the metal rung of her desk. "I think Sciuto is in charge of that one today."

"Hell, no. I've heard the rumors...leather and whips...not exactly my bag, Garcia," Dave snorted, tightening his grip on the cell phone in his hand as he heard JJ's shower start, his eyes roaming toward that almost-closed bathroom door for a bare second.

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you tried it, SuperAgent," Pen snorted as she straightened, tapping her computer's keyboard to pull her screen back up.

"Should I tell you that it sort of terrifies me that you sound all too comfortable having this discussion with me, Garcia?" Dave asked, tongue in cheek, as he stared in amusement and horror at his phone's screen.

"Why, Agent Miraculous, I'm but a lowly peon in the Federal Bureau's hierarchy," Pen drawled.

Snorting, Morgan shook his bald head as he listened to what was obviously becoming one of Garcia's highly skewed conversations. "Now you're layin' it on a little thick, Mama," he chortled.

Waving a hand at Morgan, Penelope bit back a smile at Rossi's expletive that filtered through the line. "Was there something more I could do for you, Sir?" she chuckled, trying to contort her face into some semblance of normality.

"Yeah, actually, aside from unwarranted advice on my smooth moves, I did. I need you to dig up everything you can on Mitchell Hines and any and all family he left behind. We wanna try and piece together what happened to send him to that cabin all those years ago. And JJ wants to start with his widow."

Making a note on her pad, Penelope nodded. "Consider the oracle and her humble servants on the case, Agent Rossi," she said, holding a finger up when Morgan opened his mouth to speak.

"Thanks, Garcia. Do that email thingy to JJ's phone. Your lessons on the operation of mine haven't quite sunk in yet," Rossi ordered from the small hotel in Kentucky.

"Will do. Take care," Pen nodded, disconnecting with a flick of her wrist.

Meeting Garcia's sparkling eyes, Morgan narrowed his eyes as he demanded, "Do I even wanna know?"

"What he wanted or whether they've done the mattress mambo yet?" Penelope winked, moving a spare clipboard out of her way as she shifted her keyboard to her lap.

"Hell! Both," Morgan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the metal desk. "But mostly the second," he added with a wicked grin, wriggling his eyebrows mischievously.

"I'm betting not yet. Our Agent Rossi is suave. The man puts you to shame," Pen shrugged, attempting to ignore the slight catch in her chest as she drew her eyes away from his handsome face.

"Hey!" Morgan yelped, shoulders thrown back in dismay. "I've got moves."

"Seen 'em. Wasn't impressed," Pen said, waving a negligent hand toward him.

"That hurts, Baby Girl," Morgan murmured, pressing a hand to his heart as he stared at her with heated eyes. "Maybe if you'd let me remind you of some of those moves of mine..."

"No time, Hot Stuff," Pen grinned as a flash of lights bounced on her screen, reflecting slightly in her reading glasses. "You and I have a mission."

"Which is?" Morgan asked curiously, sliding into the chair beside Garcia's desk, the scrape of the metal seeming much louder in the otherwise quiet room.

"Everything we can find on Mitchell Hines and his family. ASAP," she informed him, fingers already moving at warp speed across her keyboard.


	75. Chapter 74

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-Four**

Dropping his phone down on the rumpled bed, Dave grinned as he heard a sudden burst of singing come from the half-closed bathroom door. Now, that was new, he thought appreciatively as he heard faint snatches of lyrics play against his ears. Something about taking the good and the bad…then living up to your dreams. Hell, he didn't care what she was singing, just that she was actually doing it.

Pushing up off the mattress as he heard the water suddenly stop, he moved toward the half-open door. Tapping lightly on the jamb, he called out, "Hey, babe, you decide what you want for supper yet?"

Pausing from rubbing a nubby white towel against her damp hair, his words not clear, JJ stuck her head around the shower curtain. "I didn't hear you, Dave!"

Easing the door open completely, he stepped into the small, humid room as he met her fresh, dewy face. Ignoring the sudden tightening in his nether regions, he said, evenly, "Dinner, babe. Ice cream's not gonna hold you forever, you know."

Wrinkling her nose before she retreated behind the thin plastic curtain again, she swept her hair up into the small towel as she called out, "I guess a salad. Maybe room service has a decent Caesar?"

"You need more than rabbit food, Jennifer," Dave objected, rolling his eyes as he leaned back against the counter.

"Okay, okay," JJ shook her toweled head as she reached out a hand, pushing it through the gap in the flimsy curtain. "Add a grilled cheese sandwich. And hand me another towel, please, before you go."

Reaching for one of the thicker towels hanging on the rack behind the door, Dave passed it into the shower, watching through the almost sheer curtain as she wrapped it around her body in a sarong. Meeting her eyes as she stepped out of the stall, he grinned. "Now this is a look I definitely like," he smirked, his eyes walking up and down her almost bare body.

"Me...half-naked. Imagine that," JJ drawled, widening her eyes dramatically as she grinned, her body drawing tighter at his intense perusal.

"Well," Dave replied, crooking his finger in the top of her towel and tugging her toward him. "There's one way the view could get better," he murmured as her damp body collided with his. "And I'd definitely be willing to postpone dinner for it," he said huskily, nuzzling her damp neck appreciatively, inhaling the fragrance of blossoms that suited her so well.

"Ah," JJ sighed, tilting her head as his warm lips softly rubbed against her neck, his hot breath fanning her skin. "Really?" she murmured, allowing her body to lean against his as his tongue danced along the shell of her ear and his fingers cupped her towel covered hips.

"With the right incentive," Dave whispered against her flesh, sliding his hands up her back.

Forcing her mind to operate was a definite challenge as she asked, haltingly, "Did you call Garcia?"

"I did," he murmured, nipping at her damp collarbone as he continued gently stroking her towel draped skin. "She's going to email anything she finds to your phone. We should have some information in a couple of hours."

"So...we need to find something to occupy us until then, huh?" JJ asked huskily as his fingers trailed the edge of her towel.

"Mmm hmm, unless you want to join Anne and Gideon for dinner," Dave offered softly against her ear.

Shivering as his hot breath fanned her hair, JJ shook her head, her damp blonde tresses falling out of their ineffective covering. "I don't much feel like leaving the room, do you?"

Dropping a kiss against her bare shoulder, Dave shook his head as he twined a finger in her soft hair. "Everything I want is right here, Jen. But I think you already knew that. But we'll do whatever you want."

Smiling as he nipped her lower lip, JJ whispered, sliding her arms around his neck, "I think it's fairly evident what you want to do tonight, David."

"Hell, Jen, I've wanted you every night for months. That doesn't change. But if you aren't ready, honey, that's fine, too," Dave whispered, brushing a gentle kiss against her heat flushed cheek. Sprawling back against the small bathroom counter, he easily settled her between his splayed legs, her tiny body fitting perfectly.

"And what if I am ready?" JJ asked softly, sliding her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, her touch trailing seductively against his skin.

Dave glanced down JJ's body, his grin widening by the second. "Well, I'd suggest we start with losing the towel. But that's just my horny nature talking," he winked, his eyes watching her baby blues darken, flashing in the humid room .

"You are a very wicked man, Agent Rossi," JJ replied slowly, quirking an eyebrow as she lifted on tiptoe to brush her lips against his, her terrycloth covering shifting precariously at that sensuous movement.

Toying with the loose knot of her towel, Dave murmured, "Is that a yes, babe?"

Capturing his upper lip gently between her teeth as her hands slid up his bare chest, JJ pressed her body to his. "What do you think, Dave?" she whispered against his mouth.

"I think I'd like an explicit answer," Dave declared evenly, cupping her towel covered ass. "I wouldn't want there to be any doubts."

Laughing against his neck, JJ reached her hand between them, loosening the towel and allowing it to drop with a soft plop to the floor. "Clear enough?" she asked huskily as his eyes devoured her.

"That works," Dave choked, staring down at her luscious body with gleaming eyes, unwilling to miss one single, solitary beautiful spot. "Clear and concise. Just the way I like all my answers."

"Glad I could help," JJ replied saucily, dropping one hand to her hip. "Are you frozen to that spot?" she asked amusedly after a second as his eyes continued walking up and down her body.

"Give a guy a minute," he murmured, his eyes drinking in every inch of the bounty laid out before him. Reaching out, he trailed the bare tip of his index finger down the center of her chest, grinning as he felt her shiver. Pulling her eyes back up to hers, he drew up one eyebrow as he wrapped both hands around her bare hips, pulling her flush against him as he whispered in her ear, "I think it's time we found a comfortable place, Jen. I don't relish our first time being against unforgiving tile."

"I like the way you think," JJ answered as she slid her arms around his neck, swallowing hard as his hands easily cupped her rear. Seconds later, she found herself drawn into a deep kiss as he pulled her up against him, his feet moving them out of the tiny room. Loosing herself in the amazing feeling of his tongue against hers, JJ sighed as she felt herself falling slightly, her back landing softly against the cool sheets.

Following her beautiful body down onto the king-sized bed, Dave groaned against her delectable lips as he finally broke the kiss, feeling her fingers dropping against the small buttons down the front of his shirt. Capturing her hand, he smiled into her hazy eyes as he murmured, "Not so quick there, honey."

"Not fair, Dave," JJ objected as she shifted sensuously beneath him. "One of us is overdressed. And considering I'm the one without a stitch of clothing on, I think it's you."

"Patience, Babe," Dave breathed with a grin, slowly kissing her as his hand slowly reached for the nightstand drawer, his hand fumbling for the box of condoms he'd purchased when he'd stopped for gas earlier. Wrapping his finger around a few, he dropped the shiny packages on the nightstand as JJ turned her head toward the sound of the closing drawer.

Giggling as she watched him drop three flat discs against the wooden surface, she grinned mischievously up at him. "Aren't we optimistic?"

"Honey, you are looking at a man that hasn't had sex in over a year," Dave muttered, dropping soft kisses against the swell of her breasts, losing himself in the amazing scent that was uniquely her. "Those are just for the next few hours."

Trailing a foot over his flannel covered leg, JJ mumbled against his lips, hopefully, "Really?"

"Definitely," he assured her huskily, covering her mouth and tangling his tongue with hers, the mattress squeaking as they shifted together in perfect symmetry. Drawing back just enough to see her hazy eyes, he grinned as he promised, "I've waited a long time for this. Trust me when I tell you that I'm going to savor each moment of tonight."


	76. Chapter 75

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-Five**

**Sunshine, Pennsylvania**

**Sunshine Police Station**

"Oh, I understand how important you think you are," Gibbs demurred, casually leaning back in his chair as he kept his eyes trained on the suspect. "Seems you've always had a pretty high view of your abilities."

"No more than any other qualified physician," Beaumont snapped back, his shoulders thrown back rigidly as he shifted his gaze to the grey-headed investigator. He added caustically, "Surely you can't find fault with that?"

"Not with the idea," Gibbs agreed with a quick tilt of his chin, then leaned forward as he said sharply, "But your definition of qualified might leave a bit to be desired. Seems that the Army agrees with me on that matter." Rhythmically tapping the edge of the folder against the desk, he cocked an eyebrow as he asked, "Anything you want to tell me that might make me think otherwise?"

"Now, Agent Gibbs, perhaps we're being hasty," Hotch broke in, looking apologetically at the rapidly flustering doctor. His face perfectly composed, the BAU unit leader added, "I'm sure the doctor has a good explanation for those charges of incompetence. Everyone has some form of mistakes in their past."

His lips compressed as he pressed his palms against the table, Dr. Beaumont hissed angrily as his eyes shifted beadily from agent to agent, "This is ridiculous. The Army promised to seal my file. My current patients are perfectly safe and receive competent care. I am an excellent diagnostician."

Tilting his head, Gibbs smirked as he dropped the folder to the table, spreading the contents before him. Motioning toward a generic-looking black and white page, he commented, "What I'm reading here certainly doesn't support that particular theory."

Lips tightening, Beaumont's eyes narrowed as he studiously avoided the apparently incriminating file. "I'm very aware of the incident you're referring to, Agent Gibbs. And believe me, that surgery has haunted me for years."

"So much so that you might want to relive it? Recreate it?" Gibbs asked evenly, raising his eyes to meet the doctor's levelly, gauging the obviously defiant body language as he carefully watched the man's darkening expression.

"What the hell are you intimating?" Dr. Beaumont hissed, head jerking back in a mixture of horror and indignation. "Certainly not! The surgery of Major Grayson isn't an experience I'd ever repeat, or even care to repeat. If you read your file, you know that I was hesitant to even attempt performing that operation. I was given a direct order and I followed it. I voiced my concerns. I told my superiors the risked involved, but they felt Major Grayson could survive. Against my better judgment, I allowed them to sway me. And I paid a valuable price."

"Yeah," Gibbs drawled, "You're career as a cardiologist ended before it ever really got started." Eyes narrowing, Gibbs stared at Beaumont. "You gonna sit there and tell me there's not a little bitterness over that?"

"Of course there was...at the time," Beaumont shrugged, his eyes dropping for a moment, avoiding the lead agent's intense gaze.

"Felt like your dreams had been crushed, I'll bet," Gibbs said with obviously fake sympathy, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the well-used table..

"My dreams were crushed. But I don't see what this has to do with anything," Beaumont snapped, tapping his fingers against the wooden table impatiently, a staccato beat filling the otherwise quiet room.

"We're getting there, Doc," Gibbs said easily, cataloguing that nervous tic for future reference. "You and I are just in the "getting to know each other" phase of the program," he continued conversationally, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"If that's all this is, let me be clear here, Agent Gibbs. I have no desire, whatsoever, to know you," Beaumont snarled, his lower jaw tightening convulsively as he stared insolently.

"That's too bad," Gibbs shrugged, shuffling a page in the file until he found another incriminating report. "Because you and I are gonna get to know each other a lot better." Glancing at the papers in front of him, Gibbs smirked, "So, the army ran you out of cardiothoracic surgery on a rail, huh?"

"I wasn't run out of anything, Agent Gibbs. And I was cleared of any wrongdoing. I chose my move to general medicine and I assure you that it wasn't a demotion. I tired of the stress and backbiting of cardio. It happens."

"Yeah, killing a patient can be a buzz kill from what I hear," Gibbs snorted.

"Gibbs," Hotch said warningly, flashing an apologetic smile toward their suspect.

"What?" Gibbs muttered, raising his hands as he stared down at his file. "The way I'm seeing it here, Hotch, this physician," he said, sarcastically emphasizing that specific title, "let a retired Major die on his table. Not exactly standard operating procedure, huh?"

"I'm assuming the Army frowned on the publicity, Dr. Beaumont?" Hotch asked with a quirked brow, his dark brow rising just a hair's breadth in anticipation of the answer.

"There were repercussions," Beaumont allowed slowly, nodding once before he added, emphatically, "But I was eventually..."

"Oh, I'd say they were a little more than repercussions, Doc, wouldn't you?" Gibbs interrupted, drawing the doctor's attention back to him. "The Army busted your rank and stripped you of your credentials as a surgeon. The brass crippled you."

"And I was formally cleared after a full investigation had been completed," Beaumont replied, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"But not before you were forced to hang your shingle in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania as a lowly county doctor, working for peanuts," Gibbs said steadily, his tone steady but forceful. "Tell me that wasn't a step down for an up and comer like you. Somebody who had the drive you did...you worked on all areas of the body, didn't you? Not just the heart, right?"

"As a surgeon, we rotated, so as to have a better base of experience. I was competent in all areas, but my specialty was cardiothoracic surgery," Beaumont bit out, his words clipped as he drew in a harsh breath. "And I don't know what you hope to accomplish by this little trip down memory lane, Agent Gibbs. This is ancient history and has nothing to do with my life now. So, if our federal government doesn't have anything better to do with their time than to invade small towns and bully law abiding citizens, I think I'll be going now back to the patients that need me," Beaumont said, rising from the table.

"Sit down, Beaumont. We're not finished here yet," Gibbs ordered in a hard voice, knowing that it was a tone rarely refused by the guilty or innocent alike.

"Dr. Beaumont," Hotch stated calmly, drawing the man's startled face toward him, "my only desire here is to assure the good people of Sunshine that you're as morally responsible and upstanding as you appear to be."

"What?" Beaumont asked in confusion, his head jerking forward as he shifted his gaze from one federal agent to the other.

"Sorta like you were in another community you were a part of a quarter of a century ago," Gibbs added, his eyes measuring the doctor's seemingly genuine bewildered expression.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Beaumont asked, honestly mystified, his shoulders hunched as he dropped back down into his recently vacated seat.

"Fort Campbell, Kentucky. 1984. Ring any bells, Doc?" Gibbs asked harshly, shifting up out of his seat to move around the small room, his steps slow but sure.

"It was my duty station at the time," Beaumont answered automatically, his tone still confused, his head swinging to the side as Gibbs edged around the table.

"It was also the scene of some of the most horrific crime ever to hit the area. Little children turning up dead with missing organs, the last of which was a heart." Leaning forward until his eyes were mere inches from the so-called good doctor's, Jethro Gibbs added, dangerously, "And unfortunately for you, it's got your name written all over it."


	77. Chapter 76

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-Six**

**Hopkinsville, Kentucky**

Gasping as Dave pulled her straining nipple into his warm mouth, JJ whimpered breathlessly. "Dave," she sighed, biting her lip as his teeth gently scraped her nipple, soothing it quickly with the slow slide of his tongue.

"Hmmm," he hummed against her warm flesh, his own hard body lengthening and responding helplessly to the soft body beneath him. "Too much?" he whispered, pulling her other breast between his lips, laving it with attention as she shimmied against the cotton sheets.

"Not enough," JJ whined, her fingers sliding through his coarse hair, needing something as a touchstone. "Don't stop," she whispered pleadingly, arching against his lips as his tongue flicked against the tip of her nipple, sending an electric current sizzling straight to her feminine core.

"Hadn't planned on it, sweetheart," Dave promised heavily, his lips trailing across her chest, her skin silky smooth and he inhaled her fresh scent. "Quite the opposite actually," he murmured, running his tongue along the underside of one firm breast.

"Are you deliberately trying to drive me crazy?" JJ asked mindlessly, her fingers sliding to his hard shoulders, her nails gently scoring the skin there as she pushed insistently into his touch.

"Only with pleasure, babe," he breathed, bringing his lips back to her graceful neck, gently biting at the smooth skin as she shuddered against him.

Sliding her fingers down his sinewy back, JJ felt the strong muscles tense as her nails lightly teased him. His body felt like raw power underneath her fingertips, virtually vibrating with every touch. Slipping her hands lower, she plunged beneath his flannel pants, sliding her palms over the firm planes of his ass. Smiling as she heard his rough groan against her neck and felt his teeth gently capture her earlobe in a gently warning bite, she palmed his cheeks, squeezing gently as her legs moved desperately against his.

Clenching his jaw when he felt a stray finger trail the crevice of his ass, he hissed a warning, "Playing with fire, Jen."

"Promises, promises," she muttered, turning her head to brush her lips against his. Nipping his lower lip, she teased, "I'm beginning to think that you're all hot air, Dave."

Thrusting his flannel covered hips against her soft, pliant body, Dave caught her moan with his mouth, tangling his tongue sensuously with hers. Sucking gently at her upper lip, he rubbed his hardness against her damp heat. "Does that feel like a tease, baby?"

"Dave," JJ whispered his name in a long groan as his soft cloth covered manhood rasped against her delicate bare skin. "Don't stop," she pled, arching her hips as she tried to prolong the incredible friction between them. Hooking her fingers in the waistband of his pants. she maneuvered them over his narrow hips, reaching between them to cup him intimately. "So hard," she said softly, amazement filling her voice, "Like velvet covered steel."

"And getting harder," Dave groaned as her fingers stroked his length, her thumb swiping his tip, producing a jolt of pleasure that gripped his body. Tensing against her, he breathed deeply as her hand continued its seductive movements and her lips sucked gently at his neck.

Dropping his hands into her thick hair, he gently pulled her head away from his neck, staring into her passion glazed blue eyes. "Condom, honey," he muttered hoarsely, reaching blindly toward the nightstand. "I can't wait much longer," he warned, pressing his erection against her stroking hand.

Smiling as she massaged his length with one hand, JJ gently pressed a hand to the wall of his solid chest, shoving him lightly onto his back. Rising to straddle him as he stared up at her with shocked eyes, JJ reached across his body for one of the flat discs. "I'll take care of that for us," she whispered, closing her fingers around the plastic as she shimmied down his hard body.

Holding himself rigidly as her amazing body slid against him, he watched as her teeth tore the plastic wrapper and tried to remind himself that control was the name of the game. Of course, that was before she dipped her head to trail her tongue raggedly against him. Fisting his hands in the sheets, he growled, arching into the slide of her tongue, "Jesus Christ, Jennifer!"

Splaying a small hand against his taut stomach as her mouth slowly slid over him, JJ smiled around him as his masculine groans echoed in the room around her.

Flexing his hips as her lips caressed him, Dave grasped the headboard of the bed, gripping the wood in an unforgiving hold. "Shit!" he hissed out between barely moving lips. "Enough teasing, babe," he growled, sliding his fingers tenderly though her hair despite his gruff tone.

Dropping light kisses along his staff, she slid the latex over him with nerve-wracking thoroughness, determined to touch every solid inch of him in the process.

"Jen," Dave breathed huskily, "Honey, you're killing me," he grimaced as her fingers slid down him, smoothing the sheath over his hardness.

Lifting her head to quirk a brow at him, JJ smiled saucily. "You're the one that was concerned with safety."

Wrapping his hands around her wrists, Dave pulled her over him as he turned, pressing her smaller body into the soft mattress. "And now you're safe, babe," Dave muttered, dropping a kiss to the hollow at the base of her throat. "And, it's time for us to play," he murmured darkly, licking a strawberry red nipple as he probed her.

"Mmmm," JJ hummed, tugging his hair and bringing his lips back to hers as she lifted her hips to him.

"Let's see how ready for me you are," Dave whispered, his breath fluttering against her bosom as he dropped a warm hand between her legs. Gliding his fingers against her moist folds, he groaned his satisfaction.

"Trust me, I'm ready," JJ said with a hitched breath, gasping a little as his finger dipped into her, curling around her aching nub.

Teasing her tenderly with light touches to her core, Dave watched her head fall back against the pillow as her legs widened unconsciously, inviting him inside. Slowly testing her depths, his eyes sketched her face, desperately wanting to preserve this memory of her writhing on the bed, cheeks flushed and eyes glowing. "Good God, you're beautiful," he whispered, nipping her chin as her body rode his hand. "So responsive, baby."

"Need you," JJ begged, staring mindlessly up at him. "Please?"

"I need you, too, Jennifer. So much that it hurts," he replied, drawing in a shaky breath as he moved to cover her, his hard staff jutting forward as she moved insistently against him. "I have for a long time, sweetheart," he confided, nuzzling her cheek as her tiny hands curled around him.

Rolling his hips to claim what she willingly offered, he groaned as her soft walls enclosed him, drawing him deeper into her depths. "Fuck, yes!" he groaned against her neck, closing his eyes as sensations washed over him, overwhelming him.

"Ahhhh," JJ moaned tremulously, lifting her hips as he sank deeper. "More," she breathed in his ear as her nipples pebbled against his chest. "Don't stop," she begged as his body stilled above hers.

"Want it to last, honey," he said hoarsely. "And if I start moving now..."

"We can do it again," JJ muttered, wriggling beneath him, needing the friction of his body sliding against hers.

"And again," Dave growled, thrusting against her. "And again," he groaned, as her legs slid around his hips. "And again," he vowed, pumping steadily into her body as her fingers tightened in his hair.

"Oh, God, yes," JJ gasped, meeting each stroke with a lift of her slim hips, meeting him halfway as she reached for that magical feeling his body created with hers.

Grunting as her hands slid down their bodies to cup him, he groaned into her mouth. "Mother of God!" he ground out as her hand found one sac, squeezing gently. Kissing her deeply, he moved more forcefully against her, his strokes hard and measured. "Say you're mine, Jen," he breathed against her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. "I need to hear you say it."

Moaning as his length slid against that sensitized bundle of nerves at her core, JJ keened. "Yes! Yes!"

"Say it, babe!" he ordered hoarsely, biting gently at her shoulder as his fingers slid between them, gliding over her slick folds as their bodies met frantically.

"I'm yours," JJ squeaked, her head craning against the bed as a biting pleasure began to suffuse her. "Only yours."

"Fucking heaven!" Dave groaned, feeling his control slipping as he deepened his thrusts, one hand falling to hold her hip as the other worked her body into a frenzy. Lifting his head to stare into her dilated blue eyes, he moaned, "God, I love you, Jennifer."

"Yes!" JJ screamed, her body tensing, spasming around him as her orgasm crashed into her.

Watching her come apart in his arms and feeling her tight walls contract around him, Dave growled low in his throat as his body lost control, her movements becoming uncoordinated as shudders wracked him and his release assaulted him. "Fucking Christ!" he shouted as he exploded, collapsing against her heavily as he fought for breath.

A long minute later, he found the strength to turn over, pulling gently from her body as she shivered in his arms, incredibly sensitive from the violently passionate vortex they'd both been swept into.

Peeling off the condom with a shaking hand, he quickly dropped it into the wastebasket beside the bed. Rolling toward her again, Dave breathed a sigh of relief as she readily turned to curl her body into his, trusting him instinctively. Dropping a kiss against her sweaty forehead, Dave held her closer as her fingers slid into the hair of his chest, her nails gently scratching his sensitive skin.

"That was good," she whispered, her words barely audible in the still room. "Really, really good."

"Good doesn't even begin to describe it for me, Jen," Dave whispered, his hand sliding down to cup her bare hip. "It's as close to heaven as I think I've ever been," he murmured, dipping his head to claim her lips for a sweet kiss. Pulling back, he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose as he grinned. "And I really can't wait for another trip."


	78. Chapter 77

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-Seven**

Sighing as she climbed up into the driver's seat of her well-used Explorer, Molly Akins frowned as she glanced down at her watch. Darn it, she thought, turning the ignition as she held her breath as she willed the ignition to catch, she was going to be late picking up the dog at the vet if she didn't get a move on. And if she didn't get that blasted animal today, it would mean another night's boarding added to that already astronomical bill.

Letting out a sigh of relief as the engine sputtered then revved, she eased out onto a side street, ignoring the yield sign as she decided that some traffic rules were made to be broken. Especially when one was in a hurry and precious money was at stake.

Eight minutes later, Molly mentally congratulated herself on making better time than she had expected as she passed the old Sanderson farm, which was the halfway mark to the country vet's. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be late after all, and could get that infuriating animal home and settled before her kids got home from school. Thankfully, today was Evan's Boy Scout meeting, which meant she had an extra hour, thank goodness.

Today just hadn't been her day. What with all the hullabaloo in town about the town doc being investigated by the FBI and that strange Navy group that Jethro Gibbs helped lead, people had been in and out of the diner all day, meaning she had been swamped. Then on top of everything, Moe just had to throw a wrench into her plans. He just had to take this afternoon to cut out early, claiming that he had to pick up one of his granddaughters at school. Likely story if she'd ever heard one. Their backup cook was never as good as Moe, in either food or promptness, which meant she spent half her time making apologies. And getting fewer tips.

Although she had to admit that her best customers had been more than generous today, like Jenny's friend from the FBI had been. Most of them knew about her difficulties with her kids, their escapades the talk of most of the farmers and older men in town. And by the time the day had ended, she honestly felt like she'd told the story of the dog and vet to everybody and their brother. Twice.

About to turn onto the side road that led to the vet's farm, still another five miles away, Molly frowned as she saw a car parked on the side of the road, hood up and a body tucked over the engine. Darn it, darn it, darn it! She couldn't just pass somebody up, not out here in the middle of nowhere It would be bad manners. And she had a special sympathy for people with car trouble, knowing from personal experience how it felt to be stranded on the side of the road without help.

Glancing one last time at her watch, she knew the vet wouldn't answer his phone at this time of day, his afternoons spent out in the kennels or the stables. So calling and begging for a few minutes reprieve wouldn't help at all, unless she wanted to waste her breath on his ancient answering machine. Sighing, she eased her vehicle over to the side of the road, resigning herself to yet another addition to that already unexpected bill. But being a good neighbor trumped finances, didn't it?

Opening up her door as she adjusted her sunglasses, Molly leaned out slightly. Pasting a bright smile on her face, she called out sympathetically, "Need some help?"

"Hey, there, Miss Molly!" the stranded driver called back genially, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I suppose I do," he murmured, looking ruefully back down at the engine. "I think my carburetor might be well and truly out of commission this time."

Leaving her Explorer idling on the side of the road, Molly grabbed her cell phone off the seat beside her, slipping smoothly out of the vehicle. Holding it out as she walked toward him, she asked, "You wanna try to call Earl down at the garage to give it a tow? I can give you a ride if you want...if you don't mind ridin' back with a dog, that is. I need to run out to Doc Baker's place first."

"Don't mind if I do, Molly," the other driver murmured, taking the cell phone from her fingers. Meeting her eyes as she tilted her sunglasses to the top of her head, he asked softly, holding her phone in the palm of his hand, "Anybody ever told you how pretty those eyes of yours are, Miss Molly?"

Blushing slightly, Molly swallowed, suddenly feeling a shiver creep up her spine. It was almost as if somebody had walked across her grave and she took a half step back, reaching for those sunglasses as she had the urge to hide from his piercing gaze. Shaking her head, she tried to play it off as masculine interest. "That's sweet of you to say, but ..." she said, her words trailing off as she watched the man turn and hurl her phone into the woods. "What in the world are you doing?" Molly shouted, glaring angrily at the other man as she stepped forward automatically.

"I said you had pretty eyes," he stated, menace oozing from his voice as he caught her arm in a painful grip.

"And I was saying thank you!" Molly hollered, trying to jerk away from his steely touch, kicking the gravel on the side of the road, her feet skidding. "Now let me go so I can get my phone and go!"

"Can't let you do that, Molly," he said softly, tightening his fingers around her arm as he yanked her against him. "I need those eyes."

"Wh-what?" Molly whispered blankly, a chill rising over her as she looked up into his eyes, the utter darkness seeming to swallow her whole. "You're scaring me now, fella. Lemme go, please."

"Told ya, Miss Molly. I can't do that," he said, deftly reaching for the heavy wrench resting on the engine of his car. "I need your eyes...there way too pretty to waste on you."

Watching in horror as a man she'd considered tamer than a calico kitty raised the tool above her head, Molly closed her eyes, her mind reeling. He'd been right underneath their noses all along. God...how had they missed it? How….

"Don't usually like to make things messy," he murmured with a frown, his lips twitching at the unexpected dilemma. "But there's really no choice this time," he sighed, bringing down the wrench with a heavy hand.

And Molly's last thoughts before she hit the dusty graveled ground were that no one had any idea how close to home the threat resided.


	79. Chapter 78

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy–Eight**

**Sunshine, Pennsylvania Police Station**

Reaching over to pull the file to his side of the table, Aaron Hotchner flipped a brutally graphic crime scene photograph in front of the seated man as he intoned, "Victim number one. Four years old, went missing on March 14, 1984. Found fourteen days later, murdered with her eyes missing, removed with a surgeon's skill and precision."

His eyes widening horrifically at the sight of the brutalized body in the picture, Beaumont tried to push his chair back, only to find Gibb's solid body holding it in place. "I don't know what you are trying to prove, but I had nothing to do with something so horrible!"

"You've already told us by your own admission, Beaumont, that you have experience in multiple areas of surgery," Gibbs ground out, sliding the chair forcefully forward as he pressed Beaumont against the table. "And you placed yourself in the area of the crime. Means and opportunity, Beaumont. And I'd say being screwed over by the Army brass is all I need to prove motive, you bastard."

"But…"

Slapping another photo in place, even more violent than the first, Hotch snapped in a passionless voice, "Victim number two. Five years old, went missing on March 16, 1984. Found murdered twelve days later. Her kidneys were removed while she was still alive."

"Want him to keep going?" Gibbs asked, his tone anything but gentle as he leaned over next to the perspiring doctor.

"Just listen to me!" Beaumont demanded, pushing the photos away with shaking hands. "I didn't have anything to do with killing those children. I wasn't even in Kentucky at that time!"

"Tell me, Hotch," Gibbs said with a tight smile as he glanced toward his interrogation partner, "Does that sound to you like the good doctor is trying to lie to us? I could have sworn he told us just a few moments ago that he was stationed at Ft. Campbell."

Hotch nodded solemnly as he flipped out another piece of paper from that helpful file, slapping it in front of the agitated suspect. "And apparently the Army agrees with us. They have his base of record listed as Ft. Campbell, Kentucky, from 1983 to 1986."

"And it was," Beaumont nodded, his voice calming as he tapped the papers with an insistent finger. "But your so-called experts should have dug a little deeper, Agent Hotchner."

"Meaning?" Gibbs bit out from behind him, his hands resting on the back of the man's chair.

"Meaning that if anyone had bothered to search beyond the surface, they might have found some information that would have clarified this whole ordeal and neither of you would be sitting here wasting your time with me while the animal that did this," he growled, slamming his hand over one of the victim's pictures, "walks around our community!"

"Then, by all means, enlighten us," Hotch invited, dark eyes narrowing in concentration as he leaned forward.

Matching his inquisitor's posture, the doctor replied as he rubbed his forehead, "Technically, I was based out of the Fort Campbell base during this time period. I was a medic with the Nightstalkers."

Seeing the inquisitive gleam in Hotch's eyes, Gibbs muttered, "Special Forces."

"Yeah," Beaumont snorted, glancing darkly over his shoulder. "One of the Army's version of your Seals. At any rate, in late 1983 we were deployed to Grenada in a mission to attempt to bring stability back to the country after a military coup tore down the revolutionary government."

"What was a heart surgeon doing in the middle of a coup?" Hotch asked, his mind piecing this new information into the gaping holes in their case, searching for a match.

"As I've pointed out, I wasn't just a heart surgeon. The Army deployed a team of physicians with SF training to provide support for the country's nationalized hospital system during the military intervention. I didn't even return stateside until November, 1984." Having delivered his final information, Beaumont met the dark eyes of the FBI agent across the table as he muttered, "Satisfied?"

"So, you never heard a word about the case rocking Western Kentucky?" Gibbs snorted in disbelief, his hand shifting against the wooden rail of the seat.

"I didn't say that," Beaumont said, tensing in his seat, his eyes jerking back to the crime scene photographs.

"I am running out of patience," Gibbs exploded as he shifted, slamming a fist down on the table, disturbing the papers lying against the surface.

Lips tightening as he sat stiffly in his seat, Beaumont turned to glare at Gibbs. "Am I supposed to impressed by the beating fists and caveman routine?"

"Just answer the question, Doctor," Hotch said steadily, his eyes having never left the suspect's expressive face.

"One of my captains...he was the father of one of the young girls murdered. After he received word of what happened, he committed suicide. So yes, I knew about the atrocities being committed, but I certainly wasn't a part of it." He added, his tone tightening, "I save lives, Agent Hotchner. I do not take them."

"Could any of what he's saying be true?" Hotch asked with a raised brow at Gibbs, searching through his mind as he attempted to remember the various military law courses and the rules applying to record keeping.

Nodding mutely, Gibbs said slowly, "My public jacket doesn't list a quarter of the places that I actually was. We need the good doctor's sealed service record to corroborate his story. And the Pentagon's not real big on sharing that on their computer system."

"I'll get Garcia on it. She'll get through whatever gates they've got thrown up," Hotch murmured, the legs of his chair scraping the worn floor as he pushed back. "You mind waiting, Doctor?" Hotch asked, the question more of a formality than an actual politeness.

Relaxing slightly, Doctor Beaumont shook his head. "No. I suppose not. Especially if it means it will get you to look in the right direction." Swallowing, he waved toward the scattered file as he said, his voice kinder, "Believe it or not, I want this animal captured as much as you do. Captain Lawson was a good man. He deserved better for himself and his daughter than what happened. And if I can help with that, so be it."

"That's the first halfway human thing you've said today," Gibbs said as he reached for a styrofoam cup off the table in the corner, sloshing it full with what looked to be bad coffee.

"I'm not here to impress you, Agent Gibbs. I'm here to heal people," Beaumont spat, his temper rising again as he faced off with the NCIS agent. "And right now, you're impeding the process."

"Tell me, Doc, when you examined those bodies...did you suspect? Did you think it could be the same guy?" Gibbs asked, sipping at the cup as he leaned against the wall.

"I suspected. It's why I was taking my time. I recognized the work of someone trained by the armed forces. Those stitches that he uses..." Beaumont mused, his fingers tapping against the table. Shaking his head, he continued, "But then it became a moot point...your people stormed the gates and I was ordered to step aside."

"Well," Gibbs grunted around the edge of the cup, pushing off the wall and moving around the table. "You're back in the spotlight now."

"My record will clear me," Beaumont said confidently, his hand folded in his lap as he leaned back in the chair.

"For your sake, Beaumont, I hope so," Gibbs replied, opening the office door and closing it behind him as he stepped out into the hallway.


	80. Chapter 79

_**Author's Note: Dear Readers, Tonnie and I wanted to extend a warm thank you to everyone continuing to read, review and alert this story. We truly appreciate it and hope you'll continue to let us know your thoughts. As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds.**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Seventy-Nine**

Stepping quickly down the short hallway, Derek Morgan rounded the corner, pushing open the door to the commandeered technical hideaway. His face clenched as the thin piece of wood bounced off a nearby filing cabinet, he ground out to the crowded room at large, "We've got another woman missing."

Jerking her head up from the stack of files she was diligently proofing, Emily Prentiss gasped out, rising quickly, "What? How can that be? Hotch and Gibbs have been interviewing the doctor all day!"

"Well, other than that break they had to take for him to see that emergency patient with an asthma attack at the clinic," Abby Scuito supplied helpfully, propped up on top of a desk in the corner, her legs crisscrossed with her laptop firmly planted in place. "But Gibbs and I both went to his office with him, and he didn't even step one little toe outside that building." Nodding toward the glass window separating the interrogation room from their command post, she added, "The good doctor's just claimed he wasn't in Kentucky after all."

"We're tapping away for verification on that new little bit of info drama right now," Penelope added, nodding without turning around.

"Then either he's not our unsub or he has a partner," Morgan replied, shaking his head as he drew in a deep breath. "Damn, this ain't good."

Nodding slowly, Spencer Reid looked up from his seat beside Emily as he said, mouth twitching to the side, "Apparently our profile may not have taken into account some pertinent pieces of information. Or we have completely misapplied the data to an incorrect suspect. Of course it could also be completely unrelated and just a random coincidence that has no bearing on our case yet."

"Yeah, when was the last time that happened?" Emily sighed, her eyes drawn to the pictures of the various victims that were tacked up in the corner.

"Whoa there, little partners," Garcia called out, waving her hands in the air as she twirled around in the ancient office chair, her high-heeled feet plopping to the ground as she tapped her computer screen. "I don't understand! My baby told us we had a connection. It's still telling me we have a connection! I thought we had proof linking Dr. Beaumont to the original scene!"

"We did, Garcia," Emily answered in agreement, her eyes widening as she nodded, dark hair falling over her shoulders.

"Then something's hinky," Abby interjected, bouncing off the desk to slide in next to Garcia. Both of them started tapping furiously at their keyboards as they glued their eyes to the flashing screens.

Turning back to Morgan, Emily demanded, her eyes widening, "Is there a body yet? Or is it still just a missing person?"

"So far, just missing. Local woman, always dependable, didn't pick up her sons from their Scout meeting. Her vehicle was found abandoned on a country road leading out of town, signs of a struggle in the gravel," Morgan answered with clipped words, then glanced down as his phone vibrated on his belt. "Shit, this is the local detective that just called me a few minutes ago with the info." Grabbing it, he answered immediately, motioning for Garcia to hand him the small pad of paper in her lap.

Jerking up, Reid moved to the large white board they had propped in the corner, grabbing the dry erase marker as he started to scribble the newest information onto the already covered surface. Calling over his shoulder, he asked, "Do we know the victim's name yet?"

"Morgan hasn't said," Emily supplied, her eyes drawn to the board as she tried to make sense of these newest changes. Partially engrossed in listening as Morgan muttered beside her and took notes, she barely heard the sound of footsteps behind them, jumping slightly as Hotch's deep voice asked, "What's going on?"

Spinning on her heel, Emily met his dark gaze as she shook her head, her voice even but quiet. "We've got another missing woman, Hotch. Morgan's getting more details now."

His jaw tightening as he processed this shift in the situation and the flurry of activity in the room, Hotch turned to Morgan as he watched the younger profiler disconnect the call. "What do we know, Morgan?"

"One victim, barely alive, female, early thirties, found about five miles from her abandoned vehicle, apparently dumped," he reported as his fist balled at his side. His shoulders stiffened as he added, matter-of-factly, "And her eyes have been cut out."

Jaw clenching as he glanced around the room, Hotch ordered immediately, "Morgan, Reid, I want you at the scene where they found the body, then the location of the vehicle. Block them off and make sure the local LEOs do NOT contaminate these crime scenes. We can't afford to lose whatever evidence is at either location."

"Hotch, the deputy said we need to get the doctor out there, too. Medvac is in transit, but they say he needs to be aboard that chopper," Morgan explained quickly, glancing down at his watch.

"But we haven't cleared him," Emily argued, rising and grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair as Garcia's computer beeped furiously.

"Actually, my plucky profiler pal, we have," Penelope interjected, tapping her screen as she quickly scanned the opening document. Glancing at Hotch's surprised face, she quickly said, waving her hand toward the monitor, "Dr. Asshole is on the level. Abby helped me get his sealed records here. The only thing that guy is guilty of," she said, nodding through the glass partition separating their offices, the man in question stiffly seated in the same chair where Hotch had left him, "is being a creepy old man with a bad attitude and a God complex. Everything he told you is verified right here," she explained, tapping the screen. "He was in Grenada doing exactly what he said he was. Even received a couple of awards and commendations for it."

Looking over her shoulder, Derek turned toward Hotch as he shook his bald head. "I hate to say it, man. But he's one of the good guys."

Glancing over his shoulder as the door opened behind him, Gibbs stuck his head inside. "Anything yet, Abs?"

"Your doc's innnocent, Gibbs," Abby said, virtually vibrating in her seat beside Garcia, her black hair bouncing with each word.

"And we need to get him to our new crime scene. A new victim's been found and the need the doctor out there," Hotch ordered, grabbing his keys as he moved toward the door

Lips tightening as he processed that new information, Gibbs' blue eyes turned glacial. "Alive?"

"So far," Hotch nodded sharply. "We need to move. Now," he ordered urgently, shrugging on his coat as he felt Prentiss moving in behind him.

"You take Beaumont with your team," Gibbs nodded, dropping his crushed coffee cup into the trashcan as he stomped into the corridor. "I'll grab Ducky and we'll be right behind you."


	81. Chapter 80

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty**

Arms crossed over his chest, Aaron Hotchner waited impatiently in the narrow, sterile white hallway outside a closed wooden door. Glancing down at his watch, again, he muttered, "We're losing the light on the crime scenes. It's going to be dark before long."

Shaking her head, Emily Prentiss nudged his shoulder with hers as they both leaned against the plain wall. "I talked to Morgan just a few minutes ago. He's got both scenes locked down and is bringing in stand lights. According to what I could hear Reid saying in the background, Morgan's been barking orders like a five star general in a war zone and the locals are jumping."

"Good," Hotch replied, nodding once as he glanced down at his watch again. They had been waiting in a holding pattern for the past two hours since they arrived at the large hospital. Dr. Mallard and Dr. Beaumont had immediately taken control, both flying with the victim and rushing her from the helipad to the nearest trauma room, the hospital team rushing along with them. The snatches of information the investigators had been given wasn't boding well for their case, the victim's condition far too precarious. His mind sorting through all of the information, he added, "Those scenes may be all we have to help move this case forward."

Nodding as she let out a deep sigh, Emily pushed a strand of hair over her shoulder as she murmured, "This is not going to help JJ. Having an old friend turn out to be one of the victims….she's not going to handle that well."

"JJ's an agent just like we are," Hotch demurred quietly but firmly, leaning closer to the wall as a fast-moving group of scrub-clad nurses hurried down the hallway. "She'll find a way to cope with this."

"Hotch, you're the one who said she was a victim this time, not an agent on this case," Emily disagreed, her eyes settling on his chiseled profile, a faint five o'clock shadow becoming more evident with each passing hour. "Molly Akins was JJ's childhood friend. Hell, I had a moment of grief when we found out her name. She served our breakfast this morning, Hotch!"

"I know, Emily," he answered calmly, letting his voice soften as he used her given name, meeting her eyes as he barely resisted the urge to take her hand. "Right now, though, we have to focus on solving this case so that no other women like her are pulled into this unsub's web."

"I know, Aaron," Emily said, wincing as she realized the unconscious slip of her tongue. Glancing around uneasily at the now-empty area, she let herself relax a little as she realized they were completely alone. Shaking her head, she sighed. "Did you know she had two little kids? Eight and ten, I think. Boy and girl."

"Emily," Hotch murmured, his voice low as he leaned closer. "I know it's hard but I need you to do that compartmentalization thing you do so well. None of us can afford to allow our emotions to outweigh our analytical abilities right now," he reminded her gently.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, centering herself. "Unemotional Prentiss, coming right up."

"That's not what I meant," Hotch said darkly, nailing her with a penetrating look, her ebony hair stark against the bright white walls.

Eyes softening, Emily nodded in his direction. "I know what you meant, Hotch. I've got my head in the game."

Turning as they heard the elevator ding, both agents watched as Gibbs strode quickly toward them, ever present cup of coffee in his hands. "We know anything yet?" he asked briskly, his eyes cutting toward the still-closed door.

"According to a nurse's report thirty minutes ago, all they'll give us is that the patient is still alive," Hotch replied, his words clipped, barely resisting the urge to glance at his watch once again.

Glancing at the paper cup in his hand, Emily asked, eyes narrowing, "Bring enough to share, Gibbs?"

"Nope," Gibbs said succinctly, taking a sip of the dark liquid as he met Prentiss' eyes over the top of the cup. "Figured you two might need a break. You can go get your own."

Shaking his head, Hotch stared at the closed door ahead of them. "No. But, unfortunately if we don't get something soon, it's going to be too late tonight to do much with the scene."

"I've already got Abs out there with Morgan and Reid gathering any forensic evidence he left. If he left anything, she'll find it," Gibbs informed them, his pride in Abby's work evident for both agents to see.

"Tales of Ms. Scuito's prowess have already reached the Bureau's ears. Agent Fornell seems to think she walks on water. And he hates everybody equally," Hotch smirked, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, his jacket sliding back slightly.

"She's taken," Gibbs said bluntly, an unspoken warning in his tone as he glared across the hallway.

"We feel the same way about Garcia," Emily nodded, recognizing the tone well. "Twice a year, we have to rescue her from the poachers, too."

"They've certainly formed an unholy alliance," Gibbs said with an unwilling grin, cocking his head toward the FBI agents. "Quite frankly, your tech scares me."

"We hear that a lot," Hotch nodded, straightening suddenly as that heavy wood door opened and Dr. Beaumont stepped out of the room, worn and haggard.

"Well, can we talk to Ms. Akins?" Hotch asked, stepping forward immediately, his eyes darkening as he attempted to look over the doctor's shoulder into the treatment room.

"Do you have a hotline to the Almighty?" Dr. Beaumont replied, his voice holding no rancor, just the defeated sadness of a battle weary soldier.

"She's brain dead," Ducky said as he stepped out into the hallway, equally downtrodden, pulling off a hastily donned thin green scrub robe. Turning toward the grey headed man beside him, he said, sighing, "We did everything we could, Jethro. She was too far gone. There's simply no brain activity."

"So our unsub has essentially claimed another life," Emily said bitterly, her hands tightening into fists at her side. The unfairness of a young mother losing her life to a deranged animal was hitting her far harder than it should have. But for all her years of training, nothing prepared her to be served breakfast by a bright happy woman in the morning and to investigate her murder that night.

"I'm afraid so, m'dear," Ducky nodded glumly, another sigh escaping as he, too, remembered the once-bright young woman who had served his oatmeal just that morning. "I'll do the post-mortem once Dr. Beaumont gains consent."

"How long could she live after..." Emily asked sadly, her voice trailing off as she let her gaze settle on the black plaque beside the door, the white engraved words informing them all of the necessity for disease protection.

"With the sheer amount of her injuries, I don't expect her to last more than a few minutes," Beaumont stated in a hushed voice as a couple of nurses passed their gathered group, their voices seeming too loud and cheerful for the depressing subject at hand.

"I concur," Ducky said softly, nodding in agreement.

"Christ," Gibbs bit out, his fingers digging into the edges of the cheap Styrofoam cup.

"I need to go inform Molly's ex-husband and mother," Beaumont informed them stiffly, his professional mask already sliding back into place. "I'll let you know when we need you, Dr. Mallard."

"I wouldn't mind your assistance, Dr. Beaumont," Ducky replied respectfully, patting the younger man's shoulder. Giving a slight nod, Beaumont walked down the long hallway toward the waiting room. Turning back to the remaining three agents, Ducky sighed as he shook his head. "It's been a long time since I watched a doctor work that hard to save a life. He didn't want to give up, Jethro. He's not involved in this. That much I'm sure of."

"Then we need to go back to the drawing board," Hotch muttered, running a hand down his face as he mentally prepared for the coming hours.

"And we need to draw the picture before he escalates," Emily added with a grim look over her shoulder at Molly's room.


	82. Chapter 81

**Author's Note: Just a little shout out to three of my favorite authors who've decided to enact a little prompt of their own. Angel N Darkness, LacytheDemonicDuck, and Princess Aletheia have created a Song Title Prompt List for the H/P lovers out there. Check it out at .net/forum/Song_Title_Prompts/73635/**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-One**

Snapping her seat belt into place as she dropped her phone onto the console of the SUV, Emily Prentiss glanced worriedly at her watch. Turning to the man scooting behind the driver's seat, she said, her eyes narrowing, "We've got about an hour and half of daylight if we're lucky."

"Since when have we been lucky on this case?" Hotch asked dryly, quickly starting the vehicle and moving them onto the road, the gears of the vehicle shifting quickly as he increased speed. Realizing she hadn't responded, he added, added, glancing in her direction, "We should be back in Sunshine in about forty minutes. We'll do the best with the time we have."

"That's what I told Morgan," Emily nodded, motioning toward her phone, the conversation with her teammate having just been finished a few minutes earlier. "He's got the two scenes under tight lock and key. And Garcia's running background checks on anyone and everyone that had a relationship with the victim and might have known her daily schedule."

"In a town like Sunshine, that could be half the population," Hotch commented, glancing down at the speedometer as he pushed harder on the accelerator, hoping to lessen their travel time as much as possible. More often than not, one of the difficulties with small towns was inadequate medical care. And this was plainly evident in Sunshine, which meant they had had to transport their victim to a hospital forty-five minutes away. Even with the excellent medical care Molly Akins had received by the two physicians on the scene with her, Hotch had to wonder if that factor had also contributed to the less-than-desirable outcome.

"No longer the happy place its name suggests, is it?" Emily asked with a sigh, turning her head to stare out the glass, a sudden melancholy sliding over her. Damn it, she thought to herself, pressing her lips together. She was not the type of person that allowed her emotions to overwhelm her control. Mentally shaking herself, she attempted to force herself to think clinically, unemotionally, knowing that she couldn't contribute to the case if she was not able to remain detached. But thinking was apparently much easier than doing, Molly's shattered face once again floating before her eyes, suddenly morphing into the smiling face of her friend and teammate, the danger easily transferrable.

Quickly cutting his eyes from the road over to her pale profile as he heard the unexpected glum tone in her voice, Hotch slowly eased a hand over the console, resting it against her arm. "Hey. Don't go there, Emily. It won't do you or anyone else any good. And you can't forget that it's our job to stop the psycho that is robbing this town of their happiness."

"Right now, I'm more worried about him robbing JJ of her life, Aaron," Emily said finally, time and miles lapsing as she leaned into his light touch, shifting in the seat. Pressing her lips together as she turned toward him, she added, "Don't tell me it escaped your notice that he took Molly's eyes and not her heart. The same as the first victim he took twenty-five years ago."

"He's starting over again," Hotch replied softly, nodding once, an unspoken admission of acknowledgement, Emily's assessment having already crossed his mind. Cocking his dark head to the side, he added, "And it'll culminate with JJ."

"No, it won't," Emily said decisively, suddenly squaring her shoulders, her momentary lapse in professionalism long forgotten. "We're going to stop him before he has the chance," she said as she nodded determinedly, her cheek closest to the side window suddenly warmer as a ray of sunshine bounced through the glass. Reaching down into her bag next to her feet, she pulled out a grey folder, mentally returning her thoughts to the case completely.

"That's the goal," Hotch nodded, maneuvering the SUV down the winding road as he gave her arm one last squeeze before he put both hands on the steering wheel. "Hopefully, long before then."

"If the unsub holds to type and he's trying to repeat his pattern from all those years ago, he'll take a woman's kidneys next," Emily murmured, consulting the file in her lap, her eyes quickly scanning the pertinent data once again. Honestly, she was beginning to think she could quote these stats and details in her sleep, wanting to commit them to memory in the hope of saving her friend. Letting out a deep sigh, she muttered, "Jesus, Hotch…what's this guys motivation? What the hell does he do with the organs? Are we thinking trophies? Cannibal tendencies? What?"

"He's too meticulous in organ removal to just consume it. I'm thinking more along the lines of trophies. Perhaps he's trying to build the perfect woman."

"A mate?" Emily shivered, the mental picture floating through her mind not something she wanted to preserve in her long-term memory.

"Maybe," Hotch sighed, racking his brain for any previous offenders that might have followed the same pattern, hoping for one small inkling of insight into this unsub's motivation . "How long did he wait between kills when he began?" Hotch asked, glancing away from the curvy road to flash Emily a quick look.

Skimming her file again, Emily murmured, "Two weeks between finding the bodies."

"We don't have that long this time. I'd be willing to stake my career on it," Hotch said, shaking his head as he turned down a county highway, mentally calculating the distance they still had to cover before arriving at the crime scene. "He's escalating. You can see it in the viciousness of this kill."

Nodding, Emily silently agreed, swallowing quickly as she felt her stomach roll almost uncontrollably. Molly Akins' face had been decimated. And it wasn't just her eyes alone that had been destroyed. No, the poor woman's skull had been crushed, horribly sunk in, her brain damaged beyond repair. Whispering, she replied, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism, "Which means that if we don't catch a break soon, we're going to see bodies piling up."


	83. Chapter 82

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-Two**

"Okay," Hotch said slowly, reaching for Emily's small hand resting against the center console of the vehicle as he registered the emotion in her voice. "What gives? I wouldn't exactly call you the world's most optimistic person, but you're rarely this disheartened."

"I guess it's just knowing that those two little kids are going to receive the world's worst news to ever hit their young lives and there's not anything we can do to make it better," Emily said softly, sighing as she felt Hotch's warm hand surround hers, letting her fingers sink into his as she drew some of his warmth into her chilled skin. The night they had shared together seemed so far in the past, even though it had just been a mere day earlier.

"We can find their mother's murderer and offer her some justice," Hotch reminded her gently but confidently, squeezing her cold fingers again as he flicked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding an unexpected pothole in the country road.

"Won't help their loss, Aaron. You better than anyone know that," Emily whispered, shifting against the leather seat as the vehicle slid beneath them, swaying back into their lane with Aaron's expert guidance.

"True. But it's better than doing nothing," Hotch pointed out, his voice even as he fought back memories of his own, visions of a deranged sociopath that terrorized his ex-wife and son dancing in his head. But now was not the time to dwell on the past, he reminded himself sternly, tightening his one-handed grip on the grooved steering wheel.

"I know," Emily said, her voice resigned as she focused on the reassuring feel of his hand holding hers, his strong, larger fingers easily surrounding hers. Shrugging as she felt another wave of discouragement attempt to lodge in her soul, she muttered, "I just wish there was more we could do for them all."

"Unfortunately, there's not, sweetheart," Hotch said, shaking his head as he flipped on his turn signal, easing the vehicle onto a side road, a crunch of gravel flying beneath the tires. "But we CAN do this."

"Yeah, I know," Emily nodded, his small endearment finding a place in her heart, lifting her spirits for a moment as she tucked the folder back into her case, knowing that they were soon going to see an actual case sight rather than one written in black and white on paper. Her eyes scanning through the dusty windshield, she reached for the door handle as Hotch pulled over behind a police cruiser parked along the side of the narrow road. Nodding, she said, resolutely, "And the sooner we accomplish it, the sooner we'll know JJ is safe."

"Exactly," Hotch murmured, giving her hand one final squeeze before swinging open his own door, the soles of his shoes crunching against the uneven ground. Trailing Emily as she advanced toward Morgan and Reid, he called out, his voice in full command, "Morgan! Status briefing!"

Jogging toward his Unit Chief, a disgruntled Derek Morgan tiredly shook his head as he motioned behind him, taking in the entire area where Molly Akins' vehicle had been found earlier. "Not a lot to go on, Hotch. Abby found the wrench used as a weapon, obvious signs of skin and blood still attached. But the easy discard and lack of finesse in hiding the weapon…all signs indicate we won't get anything off it. Both vehicles have already been towed to evidence. Abby's commandeered space at the police garage and is gonna go over both of them after she analyzes the murder weapon. The unsub's vehicle had stolen plates, and the VIN number is registered also to a stolen vehicle reported a month ago."

"Local?" Hotch asked with a frown, his eyes scanning the area, taking in the apparently pastoral scene as he tried to find something that they might have missed. The entire peacefulness of the wind whispering through the tall grass seemed to suddenly turn ominous, the feel of death and terror surrounding them all.

Shaking his head as he rubbed a tired hand against his neck, Morgan sighed. "Nope, a town about an hour and a half north. Cartersville, I think."

Looking up from his position near the edge of the gravel, his evidence camera snapping rapidly, Spencer Reid called out, "That's correct, Morgan. Garcia has the police reports on the plates and the vehicle identification number in her data already."

"Any prints?" Emily asked both men, easing around Morgan to dip underneath the yellow police tape, careful to make her way around the bright orange markers that identified the various pieces of evidence. Scanning the area, she mentally imagined how the victim had landed, the impact against the ground. Each unsub unconsciously left some sort of signature in addition to the obvious, something small that could easily be overlooked if not searched for diligently. Now she just had to find that missing piece to this puzzle. Somehow.

"None yet. It's been wiped clean. Too clean. This freak knows exactly what to do and what we'll look for," Morgan growled, his shoulders tightening once again as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, the last few hours of fruitless searching catching up with him.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Hotch nodded as he recognized his team member's frustration. "Okay. Morgan, I want you with Abby. Anything you find out, I want to know immediately. Reid, I want you standing by for the post mortem at the hospital. Emily, let's walk it through," Hotch ordered, moving toward the yellow and orange markers indicating the victim's body."

"Will do," Morgan nodded as he dropped his sunglasses over his eyes, moving toward their waiting SUV, his footsteps solid against the dusty ground. Grabbing for his phone, he starting texting as he jerked open the driver's side door, his fingers tapping quickly.

"I'll call as soon as Dr. Mallard produces some conclusive results," Reid added as he shifted under the thin plastic tape, following Morgan as he tucked the camera in his pocket, his notepad clutched in his hand.

Looking at Emily, Hotch squared his shoulders as he nodded once. "Let's do this, Prentiss."


	84. Chapter 83

**__****Author's Note: Just wanted to let you guys know that no more posts until Monday. I need to take this weekend and try to write. Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! Thanks again for reading. You guys make it worthwhile.**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-Three**

Slamming his cell phone down on the generic bedside table, Jason Gideon cursed as he pushed up from the hotel bed. Glancing down at the alarm clock, he didn't need the red numbers to tell him it was a bad time to be waking up anyone, least of all himself. But the phone call he had just received from Jethro Gibbs meant that was exactly what he was going to be doing.

Scuffing a hand over his face as he stepped into his jeans, Gideon grabbed his room key as he moved out into the narrow hallway. Glancing in each direction, he quickly decided that the best place to start was with Anne Fortner. He'd rather have Anne's opinions and views on the situation before he broke the news to Dave and JJ. And he hadn't missed the interaction between all three of those women earlier that morning. A part of him wanted to be the one to tell Anne, rather than letting her find out another way. Refusing to dwell on why he had those sorts of protective feelings for a woman he had just met a mere forty-eight hours ago, he knocked on the metal door to her hotel room, keeping his raps quick but quiet.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets as he waited, not so patiently, for her to open the door, he shuffled his foot against the utilitarian commercial carpet. A few seconds later, he heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and soon came face to face with the woman. And her service pistol.

Shaking his head as he took in her rumpled hair and sleep ridden face, Gideon muttered, meeting her questioning eyes, "Put that away, Annie. The danger's not here but up in Sunshine."

Narrowing her eyes as she easily read the bad news in his gaze, Anne pulled her robe sash a bit tighter as she glared at him. "All right, Gideon. Start talking. I'm assuming you didn't wake me up at midnight to continue our discussion on how bad your steak was at dinner tonight."

Feeling a smile tug at his lips as he recalled her impatience earlier with his running diatribe on the culinary prowess it took to grill the perfect steak, he shook his head. "Unfortunately not. Though I've got a feeling after we're done talking, you would have welcomed that conversation. May I come in? This isn't exactly a conversation we want to have in the hallway." he asked formally.

Furrowing her reddish eyebrows in consternation, Anne finally shrugged. "I guess," she relented grudgingly, widening the door as she stepped to the side. "JJ's okay, isn't she?" she asked worriedly as Gideon brushed past her, his masculine scent teasing her nostrils. Fresh pine needles, she thought idly. He smelled like a pine forest. Woodsy and refreshing. So unlike the exotic scents her previous husband had favored, she thought, closing the door quietly as he moved deeper into the hotel room.

"JJ's fine for now," Gideon said quietly, aware that neither one of these women would be particularly fine after he imparted his grim news.

Narrowing her eyes as she watched Gideon wander toward the bank of windows at the other end of the room and stare outside, she watched the stiffness of his movements. It didn't take a profiler to know something bad had happened. "Jason, what is it?" Stopping suddenly, she pressed her fingers to her lips as she blurted out, her heart literally caught in her throat, "Oh, God, it isn't JJ's dad, is it? I know she mentioned he's been having some heart problems..."

"Locke is fine," Gideon said tersely, hands clenching in his pockets as he wondered why it was suddenly so hard to deliver bad news to a virtual stranger. He'd never had problems doing it before now. But there was something about this woman. He instinctively tried to protect her. And he didn't do that for anyone. Not anymore.

Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face her, knowing that prolonging the inevitable wouldn't benefit either of them. "There's no easy way to tell you this, Anne."

Stiffening as she watched his dark somber eyes, she knew he was couching his words, trying to soften the blow. "Whatever it is, just spit it out, Jason," she said softly, unconsciously widening her stance as her body prepared to take whatever blow was about to be thrown in her direction.

Jaw hardening as he watched her face tighten, a cop's mask falling into place, Gideon replied calmly, "Molly Akins was murdered this afternoon by our unsub."

Stumbling backward a step, she watched his hand automatically shoot forward, grabbing her wrist and steadying her as she met his solemn gaze with horrified eyes. Shaking her head as her mind reeled against that horrible thought, Anne denied immediately, "No. We just saw her this morning. She served us breakfast."

"And after her shift was over, our unsub somehow lured her out of her vehicle on a county road and murdered her," Gideon said softly, unable to blunt the truth, even to spare her feelings. She's a cop, Gideon, he reminded himself sternly, trying to overcome that softie that was apparently overtaking him. She's a cop who can take bad news because she knows she has to.

Swallowing rapidly as bile rose in her throat, Anne took several deep breaths as she attempted to bring her mind and body under control. Finally gathering enough breath to speak, she stuttered, "H-how?"

"Anne, you really don't want to know the details right now," Gideon said, uncharacteristically gentle, unable to resist the urge to soften the blow. "Just take a few minutes and try to wrap your head around this."

"Don't try and coddle me," Anne bit out, her voice hard in the still room, echoing loudly against the solid walls. Biting her lip as the harshness of her rebuke hung in the air, she shook her head. "Sorry," she muttered, her small hands forming fists at her side as she stared at the carpet for a moment. "You didn't deserve that," she said softly.

"It's fine, Red," Jason murmured, gently tugging at the wrist he still had wrapped in his hand, urging her smaller body to the edge of the bed. "Just sit down for a second. You might be a hard ass cop, but you're still human. And she was your friend."

Letting him guide her down to the soft mattress, Anne nodded mutely as she folded her body against the rumpled comforter. "I take it that you haven't told JJ yet."

"Not yet," Jason verified quietly, letting his fingers linger against her wrist, mentally calculating her pulse rate. "I actually think it would be better coming from Dave. I'll wake him up in a few minutes."

"Do you want me to..."

"Right now, I just want you to sit there until your cheeks don't look like chalk," Gideon interrupted softly, frowning as he noted her too pale skin and her too rapid heartbeat.

"H-how, Jason?" Anne asked again, her words insistent as she slammed her eyes to his, needing to know, needing that piece of information as her brain tried to make sense of the senseless.

"She was bludgeoned with some kind of tool, Anne," Gideon revealed quietly, watching her pretty face tighten.

"Violent...that's not like him," Anne murmured, her mind floating back to the case file, the information filtering in pieces as she remembered the previous victims.

"Chances are he saw an opportunity and took it. He probably used what he had on hand. Based on Hotch and Emily's evaluation, he didn't take a lot of time to plan this one out," Gideon shrugged, shifting beside her on the bed.

Shivering as she saw Molly in her mind's eye...happy and smiling then metamorphisizing into a broken and bloody heap. "You trust their assessment," Anne said, more a statement than a question, needing to verify the information, the cop in her demanding it.

"I do," Gid nodded.

"We're sure it was the..."

"He took her eyes, Anne," Gideon said gently, letting out a sigh as he revealed that information. "And she was branded."

"Fuck," Anne bit out, dropping her head into her hands, unable to resist the emotions any longer. "She had two little kids, Jason" she moaned softly, her words muffled into her palms.

"I know, Red," Jason murmured, dropping an arm around her hunched shoulders and pulling her slim body against him. "Go ahead and cry," he whispered into her hair as the first sob shook her, racking her body against his. "Then we'll figure out a way to catch the bastard."


	85. Chapter 84

**Author's Note: Well, we're back. And we missed hearing from you guys. We hope you enjoy the following chapter. Leave a review and let us know if you're still enjoying the ride. We really love hearing from each one of you.**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-Four**

Curling himself around the naked, feminine body in front of him, Dave smiled as he heard JJ release a contented sigh. Mentally, he congratulated himself on the fact that, despite his age, he'd managed to keep up with the woman in bed with him. Several satisfying hours and a half-empty condom box proved it. Pleasantly exhausted, he idly realized that it had been at least thirty years since he'd felt this sense of total completion.

Pressing a kiss to her warm shoulder blade, he grinned as JJ hummed in her sleep, snuggling against him. Evidently, he wasn't the only body in bed that was sated. Hell, sated was too tame a term. In all his years, he wasn't certain he'd ever felt this kind of bone deep satisfaction. A night in Jennifer's arms had surpassed everything he'd experienced in his better than a half century on earth. And he'd be damned before he'd give it up. Not because of her fears and uncertainty and certainly not because of the psychotic son of a bitch setting his sights on her.

Burying his nose in her soft hair as he tightened his arm around her waist, he realized that after years of moving aimlessly between faceless women, he finally found the genuine thing. Right underneath his nose. And he refused to lose it. To anyone or anything.

Hearing his cell phone vibrate on the nightstand, Dave mentally groaned as he reached behind him, snatching the offensive interruption off the table before it could wake her. "Rossi," he whispered harshly, wincing as JJ stirred beside him.

"Hallway, five minutes," he heard Jason Gideon order softly. "We've got new developments."

Soothing a hand over JJ's hip as she settled back against the pillow beneath her head, Dave confirmed softly, "Five minutes."

Closing his phone quietly and replacing it on the table beside him, he brushed a kiss against JJ's neck before reaching for his jeans on the floor beside the bed. Thankfully, the faint glow seeping around the cracked bathroom door gave him just enough light to avoid turning on the bedside lamp. Quietly standing, careful not to disturb her, he hitched them over his hips, keeping a watchful eye on her still form as he reached for his shirt.

Slipping out into the hallway seconds later as he heard the faint knock on the hotel door, David Rossi stared blearily at the man before him. Rubbing a hand over his face as he pulled the door half closed, he grumbled, "I swear to God, this better be damn important, Gideon. It it's another invitation to dinner…"

"It's another dead body, Dave," Gideon said bluntly, keeping his voice low as he leaned against the opposite wall, shoving his hand in his jean pockets. Motioning toward the cracked door, he added, seriously, "I don't think this is something JJ needed to hear straight from a cold sleep. No matter how good your particular brand of bedtime story was."

"Start talking," Rossi ordered with a growl, sliding the lower buttons into place on his hastily-donned shirt. "What's happened?"

"Gibbs called. Molly Akins was found on the side of the road. Eyes missing. She's dead," Gideon replied, nodding once as he met the other profiler's surprised eyes.

"Beaumont?" Rossi barked out as he took a step forward, his eyes flashing as he thought of the doctor that was their main suspect. "Was it him?"

Shaking his head, Gideon disagreed, "He was sitting in interrogation with Hotch and Gibbs when her body was found. Hotch says he's no longer a suspect. He had an alibi for the earlier murders in Kentucky. Damn good one, too. Son of a bitch was serving our country down in Grenada."

"Damn it all to hell," Rossi snapped, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fists to his side. Jerking his head toward the door, he muttered, almost to himself as much as to the other man, "She's not gonna take this well. She grew up with Molly."

"Yeah, I just had to tell Anne," Gideon sighed, letting his eyes drift down the hallway to the room he had just left. "Trust me, it wasn't pretty."

"She took it badly?" Rossi asked, raising an eyebrow as he silently surveyed Jason Gideon.

"Let's put it this way," Gideon sighed, reaching a hand up to scrub through his hair, "After the tears passed...and incidentally, I don't handle those any better now than I ever did...she was reaching for the liquor in the mini-fridge. We may have a hell of a tab by the time we leave here."

"Screw the money," Rossi snorted, shaking his head as he jammed his fists in his pockets, dropping his shoulders back against the scuffed wall. "Let the woman dull the pain any way she needs to. But this doesn't change the fact that we've got a job to do down here in the morning."

"You gonna be able to convince JJ of that?" Gideon asked steadily with a nod toward the cracked door, one eyebrow raised. "She was friends with Molly, too."

"You think I don't realize that?" Rossi snapped, anger coloring his words. Breathing deeply as Jason raised his hands, he shook his head as he replied, forcing his voice to be much calmer than he actually felt on the inside, "I'll take care of Jen. She's stronger than either of us realize."

"Everybody has a breaking point, Rossi. You know that as well as I do. And by choosing Molly as a victim, his message is clear. This just became personal again. Everyone that knows JJ will be a target. And that woman," Gideon said with a nod toward the doorway, "is going to realize it, too."

"More of an incentive for her to do everything she can to help us find this crackpot," Dave retorted. "At least, that's the line I'm gonna stick to." Meeting Gideon's gaze across the dimly lit hallway, Dave said quietly, "You realize that by our logic, there's a great big X painted on Anne's back, right?"

"Yeah, got that message loud and clear. I've already told her that I was her new shadow." Straightening, Gideon rubbed his aching shoulder, wincing with a bit of a reluctant smile in his voice, "She didn't take that news real well. She throws a hell of a punch, too."

"Don't whine. It's unmanly," Dave snorted, rubbing a hand around the back of his neck, his mind already moving forward, trying to find the words to prepare for what was not going to be an easy conversation.

"I hope JJ grabs you by the short ones, Old Man," Gideon groused, narrowing his eyes. "You gonna wake her up?"

"Not until I have to," Dave shook his head, quickly deciding on a plan of action that would best suit JJ while giving him time to analyze. "Waking her to tell her won't make the news any easier. I'll let her sleep while she can."

Tilting his head at the obviously worried tinge to Dave's words, Gideon murmured, "You really love her, don't you?"

Caught off guard, Dave stared at his one-time partner. For better or worse, this man had traveled through hell and back with him more than once. Hell, Jason probably could predict his actions better than any of his ex-wives ever could. Lying to him would be useless. The old bastard would see right through him. Jason was as good at his job as he was. "You know I do. You got an opinion on that?" Dave asked threateningly, blustering as he glared across the hallway.

"Would it matter?" Jason asked casually.

"No," Dave declared flatly with one firm shake of his head.

Smirking, Jason shook his head. "She's good for you. Makes you human. And I didn't think there was a woman alive that could do that."

"Gee, thanks, asshole," Dave grumbled, flushing. "If you're done analyzing my increased sensitivity, I need to get back in there," he said, jerking his head toward the door as he drew in a deep breath.

Nodding, Jason turned toward Anne's room. "Call me in the morning."

He tried to be stealthy when he turned to go back inside the dim room, but his effort was in vain, JJ's bright eyes staring at him as he crossed the threshold. Sitting up stiffly in the bed, her face bathed in the slight glow of light, she said softly, "There's only one reason for a powwow in the dead of night, Dave. Something bad's happened, hasn't it?"


	86. Chapter 85

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-Five**

Meeting her eyes as he nodded, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to keep this from her for any longer, Dave eased back down on the warm bed as he started, softly, "Honey, there's no easy way to tell you this, but.."

Pressing one hand to her mouth as the other held the sheet against her chest, JJ swallowed hard as she demanded, "Daddy? Is it Daddy? Oh God, Dave, if it's Daddy, I just don't know if…"

Grabbing her hand quickly as he pulled her closer, Dave pressed his fingers to her trembling lips as he answered, "No, honey, it's not your father. He's perfectly fine and still with Mr. Gibbs."

"Thank God," she murmured, the adrenaline rush letting up for a second. Dropping her shoulders for a bare second, the weight of that thought flying off, JJ whispered, "Then what is it? What's happened?"

Sliding his hand through her tussled strands as he cupped the nape of her neck, Dave answered evenly, "The unsub struck again. There's been another victim. Molly Akins was found on a country road outside of Sunshine earlier this afternoon."

Seeing the comprehension starting to dawn in her eyes, the faint light from the corner lamp just enough to illuminate her expression, Dave added, with a deep sigh, for before she could ask, "I'm sorry, Jen, but she didn't make it."

Staring blankly at him for a few long seconds, JJ felt the oxygen being sucked from the small room. Molly? Sweet woman with two little kids depending on her? The fun-loving girl that had spent many a night with her and Anne during their adolescence? Wasn't possible. It wasn't fucking possible, her mind screamed. "No," JJ said firmly, shaking her head in denial, unwilling to believe the words he was saying. "There's got to be some mistake. We just saw her at breakfast. She was going to pick up her dog at the vet yesterday. Somebody's made a horrible mistake."

"Jen, there were no mistakes. Her identity has been verified, babe. It was Molly," Dave said softly, sweeping his fingers against her skin, his eyes skating over her paling face. "I'm sorry."

Jerking away from him, JJ scrambled off the bed, staring at him with wide horrified eyes. Grabbing one of Dave's shirts from the open suitcase on the chest at the end of the bed, she slammed her arms inside, the soft material swallowing her thin body as she pulled the edges together. "No!" JJ insisted vehemently, clutching at the linen, trying to gain some semblance of control in a world that suddenly seemed to be spinning rapidly. "That means...that would mean...he knows which people are important to me. This CAN'T be a coincidence."

"Probably not," Dave admitted, slowly sitting up on the bed as he watched her closely. As much as he wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, he knew that he'd had no choice but to tell her. Now, though, he was beginning to regret that action, her jerky motions a firm indication of her inner thoughts.

"I'm going home," JJ said flatly, the words hanging in the air as she reached for her own suitcase. Determinedly, she added, "And you're going to find a way to use me as bait."

Rising quickly at those words, Dave snatched the bag from her hand. "The hell we will," he bit out, slamming the luggage on the floor beside him. "We've got a plan and we're going to stick to it."

"You stick to it. I'm going home," JJ insisted, reaching for her bag again, her fingers fighting his for control of the small black handle. Stomping her foot against the commercial carpet at his stubbornness, she pressed her toes against his as she glared up at his set face, her throat growing tighter by the second. "He's back there...killing people that knew me, Dave. I can't just stay down here and do nothing. I owe Molly more than that," JJ whispered, shaking her head furiously as she blinked back hot tears.

"And getting yourself killed is gonna help things?" Dave snapped, matching her glare as he swatted her hand away, throwing the bag on the other side of the bed. "We're going to stick to our plan, JJ. In the morning, we going to talk to Hines' widow and hope she has some insight into this monster. But under no circumstances are we going to hang you on a hook in front of this bastard. Not today or tomorrow. Not ever, Jennifer," Dave said stiffly, his fist clenching at his side at the mere suggestion. Didn't she understand that even thinking about use her to lure that psychopath tore a hole inside of him?

"Has it occurred to you that no one that knows me is safe, Rossi? No one. Not our team. Not my family. Not my friends. Everybody is a target!" JJ shouted, hands shaking as she clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands.

"Or it could be a complete coincidence. Our unsub could have seen an opportunity and taken it," Dave argued, crossing his arms over his chest, blocking her path as she took a step to the side.

"You don't believe that," JJ charged, narrowing her eyes as she challenged his words, unwilling to let herself grasp that slight straw, no matter how much her heart wanted to.

"No," Dave admitted slowly, unwillingly, that one word thrown out with a sigh. "I don't. But, it IS possible, Jen," Dave replied evenly. "And until we know more, we can't make any assumptions."

"Yeah we can. We can assume that this is going to get worse until he gets what he wants," JJ spat, collapsing on the edge of the bed as the reality of Molly's death finally dawned. Her eyes widened in sudden horror as she felt her chest start to constrict, the weight of her body almost too much to hold up. "She had two little kids. She had a life. Everybody loved Molly," JJ said as a sob caught in her throat, the words climbing out slowly. "And now she's dead, too. Because of me."

Sitting carefully on the bed beside her, Dave felt JJ stiffen as he slid an arm around her shaking body. Rubbing her shoulders, he murmured gently, "Don't do this, Jen. It wasn't your fault. Not twenty-five years ago and not today."

"Yeah, Dave? You aren't the one that keeps losing people!" JJ sobbed, smacking his chest, her palms making contact with his solid muscles as she let out a strangled cry.

"The only person I'm worried about losing is the one here beside me," Dave muttered against her hair, tightening his grip on her slim body, his hands stroking her body soothingly as he pulled her closer, tucking her against his body.

"He's not going to stop," JJ replied with a sharp gasp, her words muffled as she turned her head into his chest, inhaling a shuddery breath as her fingers bunched in his shirt. "Not until he gets me."

"Correction, Jen. Not until we catch HIM. He's not getting to you again," Dave said sternly, his words rumbling loudly in the otherwise silent room. "And that means that from now on, you don't make a move I don't know about and approve of."

"I have to go home, Dave," JJ whispered, rubbing her cheek against his shirt, pressing closer against his warmth as she felt another chill sliding down her spine.

"Jen, she's not there anymore. She can't be saved. But something down here could help us save his next victim. We have to know whether the Hinds' family has any information. And that starts with his widow," Dave stressed, running his hand up and down her back in smooth, sweeping motions as he felt another shudder flow through her taut body.

"But Molly's funeral..." JJ began tearfully, her words catching again as she fought for control.

"Won't be for a few more days. Ducky is doing his post mor-"

"Don't say it!" JJ said sharply, smacking at his chest, shaking her head against his shirt. "I don't want to think about..."

"Okay, Jen," Dave soothed, burying a hand in her hair as he shifted her onto his lap, his arms tightening as he shifted them both back on the bed. "Shhh...we'll go back in time for her funeral. I promise, okay?"

Nodding against his neck, JJ allowed herself to sink against his warmth. Eyes sliding closed as she felt him tuck the covers around them both, she wondered with her last conscious thought how such a beautiful night had turned so incredibly ugly.


	87. Chapter 86

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eight-Six**

Staring blankly out the streaked hotel window, JJ mindlessly popped a bite of plain bagel into her mouth, not even tasting the bread as she chewed. Her mind half-registered the faint chatter around her, the few patrons who were taking advantage of the hotel's continental breakfast seated at a table on the other side of the small dining room. But her mind was too jumbled, too filled with her own thoughts to be concerned with them and their touristy thoughts.

Not that Hopkinsville was a world-wide tourist destination. No, this small town wasn't exactly known for drawing in thousands of visitors each year with its family-friendly theme parks, national parks or conference centers. No, it had always been a small town with small town values, and from what she had seen on the way in the night before, it still wanted to stay that way.

She couldn't help but wonder how her life might have been different if her father hadn't moved them away from here, if she had grown up in this town. Maybe people she knew now wouldn't be in such danger, wouldn't have been targeted because of her. Maybe.

Dropping her eyes from the sight of the main street outside, she stared down at her half-filled plate, mindlessly spearing a limp-looking strawberry with a plastic fork. Somehow, it seemed so strange, almost disrespectful, to be eating, to be doing anything normal, when she knew that her friend was lying on an autopsy table. Shaking her head at that thought, trying to wipe those images from her mind as quickly as possible, JJ mentally chastised herself for letting her mind go there in the first place. She knew herself well enough to know that if she allowed those thoughts to ferment, allowed herself to dwell in that direction, then she'd never be able to dig herself out of that mental crater.

Drawing in a deep breath, she dutifully swallowed the almost-tasteless strawberry as she reached for the plain white mug sitting next to her plate. At least the coffee was better than expected, she thought thankfully, drawing in a hefty sip of the good brew. Every little bit of caffeine counted today, and she had a very distinct feeling that she was going to need all the extra oomph she could get.

Jerking her head up as she heard rather than saw the chair across from her pull out from the table, JJ met the dull eyes of one of her oldest friends. Watching as Anne dropped woodenly in the metal seat, JJ asked, softly, "You okay, Annie?"

"I should be asking you the same question," Anne replied, sipping her own cup of coffee as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on the small café-style table. Glancing around the small room, she asked, eyebrow raised, "Where's Dave? I can't imagine him not being right next to you right now."

"He was," JJ answered, nodding at her friend's accurate assumption. "Hotch called, and he stepped out into the hallway for a moment to take the call. I don't think he's real keen on me hearing any news before he can censor it first."

Smiling grimly, Anne quirked an eyebrow. "Is that the tinge of bitterness I hear in your voice, Agent Jareau."

"It's not tinged with anything. It's flat out colored by it," JJ muttered, tightening her fingers around her coffee, the hot ceramic pressing against her hand. "This is my fucking fault, Anne," JJ whispered, raising her head to meet her friend's clear gaze.

"Get off the cross, Jareau," Anne retorted softly in a tone the other woman had heard many times before. "You didn't make anybody do anything. This guy is an unpredictable freak. If it hadn't been Molly, it would have been someone else. And we both know that she wouldn't sit here and listen to you browbeat yourself. She'd say..."

"Get off your shapely ass and find my fucking killer. That bastard ruined my manicure," JJ mimicked, wiping the stray tear that had leaked out her eye, a faint smile playing on her lips as she remembered their friend's favorite phrase from their teenage years.

"Exactly," Anne replied with a sad smile, toasting JJ with her coffee cup. "Jen," Anne added softly, shaking her head as she saw the shadows still in her friend's eyes, "Molly was a fun-loving girl that knew everybody in town. If she saw somebody she thought was in trouble on a deserted county road, she'd have stopped whether she knew them or not. It's the way we were all raised. Love thy neighbor, do unto others, and all that crap. Whether you had been in Pennsylvania or not, chances are, he still would have made a go for her. She was an open target. Between her circumstances and her personality, she was his ideal target. Nothing you can do about that."

"I brought him into our lives, Annie," JJ said softly, scarring down at the pale blue tablecloth, rubbing her finger against an imaginary spot on the fabric as she tried to ignore her friend's knowing eyes.

"He injected HIMSELF into our lives," Anne countered sternly, reaching over to pat JJ's fidgeting hand. "You couldn't help her, Jen." Tapping one finger against JJ's cold skin, she added, "But you can help me."

Lifting her eyes back to Anne, JJ cocked her head to the side as she frowned, carefully examining her friend's face for any clues. "Help you? What's the matter? Besides the obvious, of course," she asked, gesturing around at their present location.

"I fucked the quarterback," Anne muttered in a low voice, her cheeks flushing as she leaned closer, her eyes glancing from side to side as she tried to hide from the neighboring tables.

"Huh?" JJ grunted in confusion, her eyes narrowed as she watched Anne's normally pale face continue to blush a deep crimson. "Hey," JJ said slowly, her words drawing out as her mind started putting the pieces into place. "The last time I saw you turn that color, you had..."

"Woken up in the Old Man Taylor's hayloft after prom with my now ex-husband," Anne grumbled with a deep sigh, shifting in her seat, suddenly less than comfortable in her surroundings. Pointing an accusing finger across the table, she declared, "And that was your fault, too. AND Molly's! You two were always getting me in trouble."

"But I don't-," JJ shook her head, still perplexed at her childhood friend's antics. But she stopped abruptly as her eyes widened, the reality suddenly dawning in her befuddled mind. "Wait!" she huffed as her shoulders suddenly jerked straight, pointing a finger back at Anne. "YOU and -"

Holding up a hand in a probably futile attempt to forestall what was probably the inevitable, Anne grimaced. "Please, don't say it out loud," she begged on a moan, her eyes literally pleading with the other woman to keep her thoughts to herself.

But JJ wasn't about to let such a wonderfully juicy topic be swept under the rug. Shaking her head as her lips quivered, JJ gasped, "YOU and Gideon?"


	88. Chapter 87

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-Seven**

"Jennifer Anne Jareau, please," Anne groaned, dropping her head into her hands, wondering if it was too late to run screaming out of the building.

"YOU and JASON FREAKING GIDEON!" JJ hissed, leaning across the table to tug one of Anne's hands away from her face, knocking over the salt shaker in the process. "How? When?"

"Let's just say that Molly might not have brought the tequila this time, but I'm convinced she did some angelic mojo and made sure it was front and center in my mini-bar," Anne confessed on a ragged sigh, recognizing the signs of a determined JJ, knowing that she was not going to be able to keep the details to herself any longer.

"Okay, that explains YOU," JJ shrugged, her mind still reeling at the newest turn of events in the soap opera that was now her life. "BUT GID?"

"I remember insisting that a gentleman wouldn't allow a lady to drink alone," Anne said weakly, cocking her head to the side as she piously folded her hands in her lap.

"Anne!" JJ gaped, the urge to giggle uncontrollably assailing her…for the first time in longer than she could remember. Now, this was the Anne Fortner that she knew and loved.

"Oh, shut up! I haven't had sex since my divorce. And the circumstances..."

"You know this is how you ended up married before, right?" JJ laughed, wiping her eyes, the tears of mirth slipping out the corners and tracking against her mascara.

"I'll have you know that I remembered the condom this time!" Anne whispered furiously, her lips pursed as her eyes narrowed at her old friend. Shaking her head again, she amended, half-chagrined, "Or at least HE did!"

"Oh my Lord! Somewhere Molly is laughing her ass off right now," JJ giggled, grabbing her side as she doubled over laughing, the humor of the situation literally bubbling up inside her as she tried to control herself.

"And as usual, you're both still doing it. At MY expense," Anne huffed, jerking a strawberry off JJ's plate, chomping the pitiful fruit into submission as she continued to glare at her friend. Although, she told herself with a slight smile, it did her heart good to see the woman actually laughing, rather than existing in the protective shell of fear that had become her life.

"I'm laughing with you, not at you," JJ choked, reaching for her napkin and dabbing at her eyes, dark streaks marring the white paper.

"In case you missed it, I'm not laughing over here, genius," Anne growled, grabbing for her coffee mug again as she took a deep sip, already deciding that the only way she was going to survive this day was with copious amounts of caffeine. Needless to say, liquor was definitely off the table…forever.

"Your loss...this is pretty funny," JJ choked, biting her lip in an effort to quell the deep chuckles welling inside her, literally rolling up her chest as she glanced up again. Seeing the look of disgust on Anne's normally sweet face just sent her into a round of giggles, the thoughts of her friend with Jason Gideon fueling the growing absurdity of the situation. "Come on, Annie! Can't you see how great this is?"

"I wouldn't act too innocent," Anne muttered, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, a knowing smile playing across her lips as she met the laughing eyes of her friend. "I don't think you're exactly pure over there. Did I forget to mention that I came by your room to see if you wanted to go to supper last night? Those sounds I heard, though...they were anything but lily-white, my friend," she charged, raising an eyebrow as she watched her friend's cheeks start to blush at the implications. "Your Italian Stallion is quite...vocal… isn't he?"

"Anne!" JJ gaped as the laughter suddenly left her as quickly as it had appeared. Throwing her balled napkin at her friend, she bit her lip as she hissed, "Don't even go there!"

"What?" Anne mocked, cocking her head to the side, her eyes widened innocently in simple questioning. "So, is he as good as he sounded? You certainly didn't sound like you had any complaints."

Color climbing up her face, JJ swallowed hard, tightly clenching her eyes shut as she barely resisted the urge to bang her head against the small table. "Does Gideon know?" she whispered.

"I certainly didn't tell him," Anne replied calmly, throwing the napkin back at the obviously embarrassed blonde . Waiting until JJ raised her head again, she added, her voice serious, "But, hon, do you honestly think the others don't notice the way Agent Rossi looks at you? They're profilers, for cripes sake."

"Suspecting is different from knowing," JJ murmured, propping her chin on her hand as she stared across the table. How could she have gone from such enjoyable laughter to a deep depression in less than five seconds? How?

"Sure it is," Anne rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friend's flawed reasoning. Letting out a breath, she said, her tone serious but kind, "The important thing is if you're happy, Jen."

"I think it's fairly obvious that I'm a far cry from happy," JJ said as she shook her head, the morose feelings of earlier creeping back up her spine as her chin bounced against her cupped hand.

"With him, Jareau," Anne said sternly, glaring. "And don't give me any of those sidestepping answers you're famous for. I want the truth, sister."

"I think I love him, Anne," JJ admitted miserably, knowing that attempting to circumvent Anne's interrogation techniques would fail immediately. And if she was being honest with herself, she wanted to tell someone, to say the words out loud in the open air to see how they actually sounded.

"Really? I'm scandalized," Anne snorted. Narrowing her eyes on her old pal, Anne shook her head as she analyzed the situation perfectly. "Of course you love him, JJ. You wouldn't share a bottle of water with somebody in high school for fear of germs. There's no way you'd share your body without being in love. Then or now."

"Thanks," JJ muttered, dropping her gaze away from Anne's all-seeing eyes, staring down at the half-empty plate of fruit, the green kiwi slices staring back up at her. Feeling her emotions start to level out again, she drew in a deep breath as she glanced over at her partner in crime. "So, does that make you a slut?" she asked mischievously, the earlier humor making another slight appearance.

"Shut. Up," Anne hissed as she swatted at her friend's arm, her fingers slapping against her hand with her plastic fork as she reached for another piece of fruit. "Behave yourself, Jennifer Jareau. Here they come," she murmured, nodding over JJ's shoulder at the approaching dynamic duo.


	89. Chapter 88

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-Eight**

Frowning as he stared down at his now silent phone, Dave sighed as he turned to move back into the small hotel dining room. But before he could take the first step, he felt a hand fall on his shoulder.

"Going somewhere, old man?"

Turning to face the man that had helped start the original BAU, Dave rolled his eyes as he asked, "Who you calling old, Gideon? I seem to remember your birthday comes a few months before mine."

"It's too early to think about our ages," Gideon muttered as he bit back a yawn, shaking his head as he tried to clear his mind. Nodding toward the phone in Rossi's hand, he asked, "Anything important going on yet?"

Shrugging, Rossi glanced into the dining room, easily finding the blonde-headed beauty still in the same seat as before. Seeing her deep in conversation with her long-time friend, he turned back to Gideon as he answered, "Depends on your definition of important. I just got off the phone with Gibbs. The post-mortem on Molly Akins is completed. The surgical incisions the unsub used to remove her eyes are identical to the other victims."

"Well, that's what we were expecting," Gideon sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he lowered his voice, avoiding the eavesdropping group of teenagers who were giggling their way through the hallway.

Taking a good look at his one-time partner, Dave frowned, tilting his head. "Damn," he hummed, looking into Gideon's uncharacteristically bleary eyes, "What happened to you?"

"Don't ask questions that you don't really wanna know the answer to, Rossi," Gideon warned, leaning tiredly against the wall behind him, his head dropping against the paneled wall. Hell, he didn't remember the last time he'd experienced a hangover of this magnitude, let alone made love to a woman while that drunk.

Narrowing his gaze on the less than forthcoming man in front of him, Rossi asked, his voice more of a demand than a request, "What happened, Gid?"

"I had too much to drink, Dave," Gideon retorted grumpily, glaring through narrowed eyes at his interrogator.

"And?" Dave prodded, the flush creeping over Gideon's high cheekbones telling him instinctively that there was more to it than that. Far more. And he'd be damned if he'd leave such interesting information hidden and unmined.

Clearing his throat scratchily, Gideon dropped his gaze to the floor as he shifted against the wall.

No fool, Dave could recognize a guilty demeanor at a hundred paces. And he seriously doubted that the commercial carpet was offering a stimulating focus for his partner. "What'd you do, Jase?" Dave asked quietly, mentally preparing himself for whatever the other man was about to confess.

"Anne and I...we got a little carried away last night," Gideon mumbled, wiping his hand against his jeans, his eyes still steadfastly glued to the flooring next to his shoes. "We were both drinking and ...."

"You didn't," Dave growled in interruption, jaw tightening as he glared darkly at the other man.

"What? You're the only one that can get laid, Rossi?" Gideon asked sarcastically as he snapped as sharp glower, agitated that the other man could manage to make him feel like the biggest heel on earth with a mere look.

"Don't even try to go there, Jason," Dave said, shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nowhere close to being the same thing," he continued. Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head, reading in between the lines as he watched Gideon's cheeks flush even more. "But that isn't what's bothering you, is it? It's not the fact that you slept with Anne. It's that you want to do it again. This woman got to you."

Pursing his lips, Jason growled, waving a hand in the air as he straightened his shoulders, "Don't analyze me. I'm finishing this case and I'm walking away again. Period."

Shaking his head, Rossi sighed, wondering how his morning had devolved into a "Dear Abby" confessional. "You can't run forever, Jason."

"I'm not running, Rossi," Gideon shrugged, his face impassive as he schooled his features. "I'm going to walk."

"You know, I've noticed the way you watch her. Whether you want to be or not, you're interested in that young woman," Dave said, nodding inside toward the table where JJ and Anne sat quietly chatting.

"She's an interesting person," Gideon replied easily, shrugging his shoulders as he ignored the implications behind the statement. "We shared a couple of enjoyable hours in an inebriated condition. Doesn't make it a relationship. Hell, it's not even anything to build on," he remarked calmly, all while he tried not to recall the disappointment he'd felt when she'd hurriedly moved into the bathroom this morning, barely sparing him a glance. He'd like to say her obvious rejection hadn't stung. But it had. And that wasn't something he was something he was ready to share with anyone. Especially not with the perceptive man watching him. Keeping his face carefully blank, he shot Dave a measured glare and growled, "Now, unless you'd like the dirty details of our interlude, tell me the fucking plan so that I can get the hell back to where I belong."

"And where's that, Jason?" Dave asked curiously as he tried to decipher Gideon's body language, to read beyond what he was hearing and interpret what the man was thinking. For JJ's sake, he needed to have an idea of what was happening and what was going to happen, both with Gideon and with her long-time friend.

"Wherever the hell you people aren't," Gideon retorted, stuffing his hands in his jeans' pockets as he purposefully glanced toward the dining room door.

Dave knew when he was being dismissed, and Gideon's words and actions indicated as much. Sighing, Dave lifted his coffee to his lips and took a slow sip. "I want you and Anne to finish off talking to the victim's families. Is working together gonna be a problem for you now?"

"For me? No," Jason shook his head, his eyebrow cocked.

"What about for her?" Dave asked, nodding toward the redhead sitting just a few feet away at the table with JJ, watching as she reached for a strawberry.

"You'd have to ask her that," Gideon smiled grimly. "In fact, I dare you to do that," he smirked, meeting the other man's eyes as he issued the challenge.

"Thanks, but I like my balls in their current location," Dave snorted, eyeing the two women inside the dining area. "And if one didn't go for them, the other would."

"That much, you and I can agree on. So while Red and I talk to families..."

"JJ and I are set to meet with the Hinds' family this morning. The widow and her children have agreed," Dave informed him darkly, his jaw clenching at the very thought, reminding him once again of the argument he and JJ had just minutes earlier in the hotel room.

"You sound less than thrilled," Gideon commented, arching a brow.

"JJ refuses to stay behind," Dave grumbled with a shake of his head, still wondering if it was possible to pack her onto the jet and fly her out of here immediately before she could be exposed to any further danger. But he was fairly certain she would find a way to escape, her desire to solve this case as strong as his need to protect her.

"Why would she?" Gideon asked, cocking his head. "Better yet, why would you want her to?"

"The son has a record...a couple of battery charges. And no matter what, you can't tell me this family won't have a certain amount of bitterness against her. The idea of taking her into what could be a volatile situation doesn't exactly sit well with me."

"OR they could see her as the victim she was, Dave," Gideon suggested evenly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yeah, since when do you believe in the goodness and compassion in others?" Dave asked sarcastically over his shoulder, moving toward the girls' table, unwilling to stay away for another minute longer.

"Good point," Gideon muttered, following closely, his eyes already drawn to the two huddled women, wondering exactly what the two of them had been discussing so intently.


	90. Chapter 89

******_Author's Note: Many thanks to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. My co-author and I truly appreciate hearing from our readers in whatever capacity you care to contact us. It's a very rewarding experience to know that people are enjoying something you produce. For those of you that follow our stories, this will be the last posting until Sunday night/Monday morning. We're going to take a couple of days and try to get some hard core writing done for you. As ever, any of you that have plot bunnies running around in your head that you don't particularly want to right, but would love to see...shoot them over to us. We're always looking for fresh ideas. And, as much as we'd like to say we did, we don't own Criminal Minds. _**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Eighty-Nine**

Sliding into the driver's seat of the black SUV, David Rossi slipped the key into ignition as he smiled reassuringly over at the tiny blonde currently ensconced in the passenger seat. "All set, babe?"

Nodding, JJ clicked her seatbelt into place as she met his eyes. Now that was a bad idea, she thought to herself, her throat tightening as she found herself falling into his deep, dark gaze, her mind flying back to the multiple moments they had shared throughout the night. Shaking her head, she tried to pull herself back to the present, to the case before them, knowing that they couldn't afford to let their personal feelings influence the professional. Trying to put a serious look on her face, she muttered, feeling her face start to blush, "You probably need to be careful about the terms of endearment, Dave. People are going to start getting ideas."

"And what ideas might that be? That you and I care about each other? Isn't that the truth?" he asked with a frown, pulling out onto the main road, the GPS already set for directions to their destination. Narrowing his eyes as he glanced at her, he added, voice wary, "You wanna tell me what's on your mind, Jen?"

"It's nothing, Dave," she answered, her hands folded in her lap as she studiously avoided meeting his gaze. "I'm just thinking about the case and how we need to be careful."

Shaking his head as he slipped on his sunglasses, the morning sunshine bright in the hills of Kentucky, he answered immediately, "Oh hell no. That answer's not gonna fly. Start talking, Jennifer."

Closing her eyes, she realized too late she'd opened a can of worms she wasn't prepared to deal with yet. Hell, she wasn't even certain how she felt about anything anymore. Her world had been turned upside down. Left was right, up was down...and now, after ignoring her own feelings for so long, a man that should never even have entered her hemisphere had declared his love for her.

"Jen," Dave murmured, casting her a sidelong glance as he measured his coming words, "are you having regrets about last night?"

"Regrets?" JJ said faintly, repeating that word as she stalled for time, for a moment to determine the right words. "No, I don't regret it. It just complicates things, Dave," JJ murmured, staring out the window at the passing scenery, the plain farmhouses passing with regular frequency.

"It was already complicated in your eyes, Jen," Dave reminded her evenly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he forced himself to resist reaching for her, to resist touching her hand.

"What do you mean, 'in my eyes'?" JJ asked suspiciously, turning slowly, shifting uncomfortably in the molded seat.

"It means that I don't happen to agree with you. In fact, I think it's fairly simple. I love you. No muss, no fuss," he shrugged, his tone even but sure.

Eyes widening as she stared at him incredulously, his words literally igniting a fire within her, JJ repeated, "No muss, no fuss? Are you kidding me? We work together...we have a mutual past together involving a deranged psychopath that happens to still want me dead and doesn't seem to mind killing off my friends and relatives...and you consider this," she said, waving a hand between them, "to be no muss or fuss? It's ALL muss and fuss, Rossi!"

"Maybe it's a little tangled, Jen. But the way I feel isn't. I don't have any doubts about it, nor do I perceive it to be a complication. I think you're imagining obstacles that aren't there," he said quietly.

"Imagining....are you nuts?" JJ snapped, her words echoing in the small enclosure, bouncing off the windshield and ricocheting back. "You realize that you could be just as much a target as anybody else, right? He doesn't choose his victims based on their gender, David," JJ reminded him, the words grinding out as she clenched her fingers against the edge of the seat, her nails biting into the leather.

"True...," Dave nodded, acknowledging her assessment. "We assume he chose children in the beginning because they were easy to manage and he was honing his craft, so to speak. As the years progressed, whether because your age changed or he gained confidence, he widened his victim pool. He has killed more females than males...but I personally think that's more of an opportunistic choice rather than a driven desire. If he's a male...and relatively attractive, it'd be easier to get closer to a woman," Dave shrugged as he finished his analysis. "But him going after a man isn't beyond the realm of possibility."

"That makes me feel sooo much better," JJ muttered, her lips tightening as she stared at his handsome profile, shaking her head at his deliberate obtuseness. "But you're deliberately trying to miss my point."

"No, I know your point, JJ. You think if he perceived me as a threat, he'll try to eliminate it. Honestly, that might be our best bet," Dave mused, cocking his head to the side as he considered that possibility, knowing that he'd rather place himself in the line of danger than allow her to be haunted for the rest of her life.

"Wait a minute!" JJ yelped, jerking her head toward him as she strained forward against her seatbelt. Ignoring the bite of the canvas against her shoulder, she twisted violently in her seat as she demanded, "You won't allow me to be used as bait, but you're willing to wave yourself out there like a red flag? How is THAT okay?"

"It just is," Dave replied evenly, his voice octaves lower than hers, a faint rumble in the cab of the SUV.

Staring at him in amazement mixed with disbelief, JJ tried to make herself understand why he would believe such an obvious fallacy. Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to count to ten before she made her next demand. "Dave, pull the car over please," JJ requested calmly, her hands tightening around the seatbelt strap against her scarred chest.

"What?" Dave asked, surprised, his head jerking to the side quickly as he searched her face for details. "Why?" he frowned, suspicion filling his voice.

"I want your full attention when I kill you, that's why!" JJ exploded, throwing her hands up as he edged the SUV off the country road.

"Jen," Dave sighed, opening his mouth only to feel her open palm slap against it, her fingers effectively silencing any further discussion on his part.

"Let me be real clear here, Rossi. You try to go that route to smoke out this unsub and we're done. Full stop. I won't negotiate and I won't change my mind. You pushed and pushed until you barged your way past my defenses...well, fine! You accomplished it. You're in! I buried my sister. I have to go bury Molly. Do you honestly think I can handle the thought of doing that for anyone else? Especially the guy I'm sleeping with?"

Pulling her hand away from his mouth as he watched her cheeks redden with anger, Dave said calmly, "Jen..."

"No. Shut up," JJ said with a vicious shake of her head, her words crawling out of her throat as she tried to control the pounding of her heart. "I know that tone. I've heard it before when you try to placate hysterical women....I'm NOT hysterical. I'm pissed. And if I had known that you'd even debated trying this tactic, I'd never have let you touch me."

"Meaning you wouldn't have let yourself feel anything for me, right?" Dave asked evenly, barely resisting the urge to stroke her cheek. He wasn't a fool though. He was fully cognizant of the fact that if he touched her now, he'd very probably draw back a nub.

"Yes," JJ hissed through clenched teeth, her head jerking in a harsh nod as she met his eyes.

"So you admit you have feelings for me then," Dave said slowly, watching her face for any clue, any sign that he was on the right track.

"No, Dave," JJ said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she tried to pull her hand away from his. "I screwed you because I was bored and it was a good way to pass the time." Glaring at him, she growled, "What the hell do you think, you jerk?"

"I think I'm in love with an amazing young woman and that if you feel this strongly about it, I'll adjust my strategy accordingly," Dave said softly, watching as his words slowly invaded the fog of her anger, her beautiful blue eyes starting to soften.

Relaxing slightly in her seat, JJ nodded. "Good idea," she replied quietly, her breath floating out of chest as she felt her shoulders start to relax. "Now, let's go. I don't want to keep these people waiting."

Twisting the key in the ignition, Dave felt his heartbeat resume a normal rhythm as he maneuvered them back onto the road. He'd hadn't heard the declaration of love he'd hoped for, but it was close enough. For now.


	91. Chapter 90

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety**

Pulling onto the gravel farm road leading to the Hinds' residence, Dave glanced toward JJ, tense and drawn in her seat. It didn't take a profiler to determine that her body language was telegraphing her obvious apprehension over the coming interview.

Frowning as he once again considering changing plans and squiring her away to a safe location, he let out a deep sigh as he forced himself to focus on the directions, counting the houses on the narrow road. Finally pulling over on the shoulder in front of a small but neat frame home, he turned to focus her with a hard look. "Are you sure about this, Jen? I can do this alone. I could take you back to the station and..."

"I have to see her," JJ said distantly, her eyes staring blankly out the dusty window as she clenched her hands in her lap. "If nothing else, I have to say I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Jennifer," Dave snapped, hearing the edgy tone in his voice . "Regardless of the fact that Hinds wasn't the actual unsub, he was there that night and he ran. Why does an innocent man run when he hears a bunch of men yelling, "FBI! Freeze!"?"

"I don't know, Dave," JJ whispered, never pulling her eyes away from staring out the window. Swallowing hard, she added, "But wouldn't you have run from that house of horrors, too, if you could have?"

"Not and left an innocent child alone with a monster, I wouldn't," Dave bit out, his eyes tracing her profile, her beautiful face always drawing him.

"Maybe he was trying to lead the unsub away from me," JJ said softly, searching her mind for some memory of those seconds before he and the rest of his team had burst through that cabin's door. But, all she saw was the black darkness that she'd seen for over twenty years. Waves upon waves of total nothingness met her every single time she tried to force herself to relive those moments.

"Or maybe they were partners," Dave growled, tightening one hand on the steering wheel as he watched her pain filled eyes close again.

"You don't believe that," JJ replied evenly, shaking her head as she turned to face him. "This guy wouldn't have shared credit for his work."

"No, he just gave credit for his kills to someone else," Dave muttered, watching her face, hating that her normally vibrant blue eyes seemed somehow duller.

"Not really," JJ frowned, pressing the palms of her hands against her slacks as she shifted in the seat. "He kept killing...he just got smarter about it. At any rate, those folks might know something that could help us. There had to be a reason Mitchell Hinds went to that cabin. You saw it...you'd never have found it unless you were looking. It can't be coincidence."

"I know," Dave agreed, nodding as he stretched his hand across her lap, lacing his fingers with hers, the coolness of her skin adding another worry to his already full mind. "Doesn't mean that I like it."

"I don't care if you like it, but I'm begging you not to be openly antagonistic," JJ pled, squeezing his fingers, letting her head fall back against the leather seat as she stared up into his deep, dark eyes. "Whether Hinds was involved maliciously or not, this family has suffered under a black cloud for years. And just because you have a bad apple, it doesn't mean the entire tree has to suffer."

"Though it usually does. Disease spreads, honey, whether you like admitting it or not," he murmured, thinking of Mitchell Hinds' son's record, the preponderance of cases from his past proving that evil spread through genetics just as easily as any birth defect or physical malady.

Letting out a deep sigh at his firm words, JJ shook her head as she stared at his face, the worry lines evident around his eyes. "Let's just do this, Dave, and find out what we can. The sooner we get this over with, then we'll be able to head back to Pennsylvania."

Squeezing her hand just before he released her fingers, Dave grumbled as he pushed open his door. "If I had my way, you'd be headed there immediately. Or better yet, I'd fly you back to Little Creek and lock you in my cabin where no one could ever find you."

"I think you and I both know that the chances of you pulling off are slim to none," she retorted. Shaking her head at his comment, JJ unclicked her seatbelt as she opened her door, stepping out onto the uneven gravel just as he drew up beside her. Staring up at his concerned face, JJ shaded her eyes against the morning sun as murmured, "Dave, you're going to have to wipe that look off your face, or you're going to scare the family before you say the first word."

"Good," he replied succinctly, wrapping his arm around her waist as he led her up a short dirt pathway toward the small, nondescript house sitting underneath a copse of pine trees. Muttering under his breath, he added, "Do me a favor, Jen, and stay next to me the entire time."

"Dave, it's an old lady who's not going to be able to hurt a fly," JJ whispered back as they stepped up on the small porch, the aged floor boards creaking beneath their combined weight.

Tightening his hand around her arm, he pulled her back to his side when she would have raised her hand to knock on the door. "Look," he ground out, "this Hinds man might not have been the man that tried to kill you, Jen, but he was there. And until we know why, he's not in the clear. We're going to take every precaution here and that includes you allowing me to be your shadow.

"It's a woman in her mid-sixties, Rossi," JJ ground out under her breath, well aware that the windows and doors were probably not sound proof, years as an agent having taught her that very fact. Frowning as a gust of wind blew a strand of hair in her face, she impatiently blew it out of her eyes as she added, "Tell me exactly how she's going to be a threat."

"Don't discount anything, JJ. And her two children, very much in their prime I might add, just might be holding a grudge. Hell, JJ, you would! If someone had accused your father of something this heinous and you believed it wasn't true, there's no way you'd be sitting in there with open arms to welcome them," Dave bit out in a low voice, his dark eyes daring her to contradict that very fact.

Damn it, he was right. She would be bitter...livid even. And she'd be entitled. Just as they were entitled to whatever they felt. Schooling her features into a neutral mask, she whispered, not addressing his statement, "But we're never going to know anything until we go inside."

"Then agree to be on your guard and stay close," Dave insisted, squeezing her upper arm in warning again, unable to shake the feeling that he was allowing her to place herself directly in danger's pathway.

"I've been on my guard since I realized what was happening," JJ snapped, rolling her eyes as she jerked her arm away from him, composing herself. "I've let you play lord and master through three states now. Enough," she bit out, straightening her shoulders, the satin lining of her jacket pulling against her neck at the motion. "In case you're forgetting, I'm a fairly decent agent myself."

"And you're emotionally involved," Dave retorted, his brows drawing together as he debated the wisdom of allowing her anywhere near the Hinds family at all. Maybe he should have gone with his gut instinct and locked her in the hotel room with guards posted at the door. Although, he suspected that had he tried it, he would have returned to several prone bodies and a missing Agent Jareau, the entire Kentucky Highway Patrol on red alert. She was formidable when she was pissed. And her reddened cheeks and sparkling eyes told him she was quickly reaching her tolerance level for him.

"And you're not, right?" JJ snapped, cocking her eyebrow as she pursed her lips, tapping her foot impatiently for his answer.

"It's different," Dave sighed, wondering how he could make her understand the sheer level of anxiety he felt over this particular interview. But he also knew that nothing he said was going to break through the shield she had slammed around herself.

"It isn't. And I'd suggest that if YOU can't act like the qualified agent you are, that YOU sit in the SUV. I'm going to find some answers. With or without you," JJ whispered violently, knocking on the door in front of her before he could grab her hand.


	92. Chapter 91

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-One**

"Damn it, Jen," Dave hissed, frowning heavily at her as he heard her fist land hollowly against the green wooden front door, its paint peeling with age. Realizing it was too late to withdraw her greeting, he steeled himself for the coming confrontation, prepared to shield her from whatever attacks might be thrown her way.

"Enough," JJ bit out, her voice low as she kept her eyes glued to the door, waiting for a response. "Try to remember that you and I are on the same team here," she whispered, hearing a rustle inside the house, her spine stiffening at the realization that the moment was near.

"Not the one with a selective memory," Dave bit out under his breath as the door swung open by an elderly woman that looked to be in her mid-sixties standing stock still, her lined face pinched as she stared out at them as she squinted slightly against the streaming sunlight behind them.

"Mrs. Hinds?" Dave asked, striving for a pleasant tone as he reached inside his jacket pocket for his badge, flashing it professionally in front of her. "We're..."

"I know well who you are, Agent Rossi. I remember you," Mrs. Hinds cut him off, her hand tightening on the door frame as she stared back at him, her rheumy eyes weary and her voice cracked with age. "And you're face, I could never forget," she whispered softly as she turned her gaze toward JJ, her head shaking sadly. "Don't matter how old you get."

"Hello, Mrs. Hinds," JJ said respectfully, smiling nicely at the older woman, searching her memory for a faint sliver of remembrance of this woman from the past. "Thank you for agreeing to see us."

Nodding, Mrs. Hinds' wrinkled hand pulled the door open wide and released the lock on the storm door, the hinge squeaking as she pushed it open. "Man on the phone said it was important. I wondered how long it would take ya'll to finally come back."

"Pardon?" Dave asked suspiciously, eyeing the elderly woman as he stepped onto the worn, but clean, grey carpet of the cramped foyer.

"To come back," Mrs. Hinds repeated, casting her eyes over him. "I'm assumin' that ya'll finally figured out that you accused an innocent man."

Cutting Dave off before he could reply, certain that he would object to the older woman's characterization, JJ said softly, "Mrs. Hinds, we're hoping you can help us shed some light on what happened all those years ago."

Eyeing JJ with a shrewd eye, Mrs. Hinds nodded once, tucking her hand in the front pocket of her house dress. "I'll do what I can to help you, child. None of this was your fault. But him," she said, swinging her eyes toward Dave, her gaze clouding even more, "Him, I'm gonna want to hear an apology from."

"I assure you, ma'am, if it comes to light that your husband was wrongly accused, you'll have my sincerest apologies," Dave nodded solemnly. "But his innocence or guilt remains to be seen."

"He was innocent," Mrs. Hinds stated with quiet resolution, her spine stiffening in the dimly lit foyer. "And you'll see that soon 'nuff," she nodded sagely, her tone filled with belief honed throughout the years.

"Mama?" a feminine voice called distantly from the depths of the house, echoing into the small foyer.

Seeing Agent Rossi stiffen in front of her, Mrs. Hinds smiled benignly as she waved a hand toward one of the open door ways in the short hallway. "My daughter, Agent Rossi. No reason for your hackles to rise. The agent that called yesterday said that you'd prefer to meet with my entire family," she reminded him evenly, tilting her head to the side.

"That's right, Mrs. Hinds," JJ nodded, speaking for Dave, her smile reassuring. "Sometimes even children have valuable information. They just don't realize that they knew it. We're hoping that one of you might have some memories that you didn't recognize as important at the time."

"The most important memory I have is of this man," she said firmly, nodding at Dave, "arriving on my doorstep and telling me that my husband had been shot dead...running from them. And I clearly remember you calling him a murderer," Mrs. Hinds added narrowly, her voice constricting as she almost hissed out the last word.

"The facts and evidence we were in possession of at the time..." Dave began patiently, seeing the older woman's growing agitation in the tightening of her lips.

"Were lies and fabrications...whether made by agents in a hurry to close a case or the actual killer, I ain't sure. The only thing I know for certain was that the man I loved would never do the things ya'll said he did. And evidently, ya'll have reason to believe that, too, now, or you wouldn't be standin' in my house, would you?"

"Mama," a soft voice said from the open doorway behind them, "we talked about this. If you're gonna get upset, we're not gonna do this." Stepping into the entry way, a younger version of the elderly woman gently took her mother's arm. "I'm Mary Hinds Gardner," she said, nodding stiffly to JJ and Dave, her eyes lingering on JJ's face for a moment. "Her daughter," she said, tightening her fingers around her mother's forearm. "And I'm going to need to insist that you try not to upset my mother. She had a heart attack less than a year ago and I'm sure you can understand that my brother and I are protective of our only remaining parent," she said, her eyes turning to bore into Dave's accusingly.

"Where is your brother?" Mrs. Hinds asked suddenly, looking at her daughter as she leaned closer.

"I think I heard his truck pulling up out back, Mama," Mary assured her quietly, her hand dropping to link with her mother's. "Why don't ya'll come into the sittin' room. I think Mama needs to sit down now," she said with a nod down the hallway, worriedly looking her mother over for any signs of distress.

"Of course," JJ agreed readily, following the two women down a small hallway into a brightly lit living room. Looking around, JJ noted the dated, but well-cared for, furnishings, her eyes immediately drawn to the large portrait of Mitchell Hinds hanging over the fireplace. Breath catching in her throat as she stared at that smiling face, her mind flashed backward in time. But in her thoughts, it wasn't a handsome, well built man smiling at her as he was in the frame. In her memory, she could only see his face contorted in horror, his bloody hands pressing against the gaping would in her sister's head, screaming as tears streamed down his face, "Sweet God, what've you done? What kind of monster are you?"

Watching JJ's face pale as her hand caught the arm of the sofa for obvious support, he heard her soft gasp as her eyes focused on the picture. "Jen?" Dave barked in sharp concern, grasping her arm as he stepped behind her, prepared to take her weight if necessary.

Wrenched from the painful memory, JJ shook her head, easing down onto the soft cushion of the aged sofa. "I'm fine," she said softly, shaking her head as she tried to clear her thoughts, to wipe away that distressing voice. "We'll talk about it later," she mumbled, barely meeting his eyes as she felt his hand tighten on her arm.

Frowning, Mrs. Hinds eyed the wan woman sitting on her couch. "Mary Beth, get Ms. McClellan a glass of water," she demanded evenly. Leaning forward, she touched JJ's leg lightly. "Are you all right?" she asked softly, true concern filling her warbling voice.

Trembling as Mary hurried back into the room and pressed the glass into her hand, JJ shook her head as she turned blindly toward Dave, his worried eyes meeting hers. "She's telling the truth. Whatever Mitchell Hinds role was in this, he wasn't in that cabin to hurt us. I remembered his face. He was horrified...terrified by what...by what he'd seen, Dave," she whispered, swallowing hard as she tried to find the words to explain her memory.

And if this recollection proved true, then what else had happened all those years ago that she still couldn't remember?


	93. Chapter 92

_**Author's Note: Guys, I'm gonna take tomorrow off from posting and do some writing. I'll post again on Thursday. Thank you for understanding. Again, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted or favorited our stories. We love hearing from you. As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds.**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Two**

"What else, Jen?" Dave asked, watching as she closed her eyes, obviously straining, reaching toward another memory trapped in the recesses of her mind. Screwing protocol, he reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with her cold hand as he tugged her toward him. "Jen," he prodded softly, momentarily forgetting the other occupants of the room.

"Nothing...it's black again," JJ whispered, her eyes slowly opening as she drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs. Glancing around the small room, she winced as she remembered where she was, the entire situation returning with a vengeance. Turning toward the elder Hinds woman, she whispered, "I'm so sorry...but the feeling I got...he wasn't there to harm us. I don't know why or how he was there...but it wasn't evil. He wasn't evil."

"You aren't saying anything that I haven't always known, Jennifer," Mrs. Hinds said, her face softening as her eyes drifted toward the framed picture on the wall. "My husband had his faults like every other man on the face of the earth, but there was never any way I could ever believe he was capable of what they said was done to you and those other younguns'. He loved his own children too much," she murmured with a tender look over her shoulder at her daughter.

Following her eyes toward the other woman, JJ smiled tightly as she looked at the younger replica of the senior Hinds. "You look so familiar in a way," she murmured quietly, trying to place the face, wondering if she had met her before.

Returning JJ's smile nervously, Mary shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest. "We were in the first grade together."

"We were?" JJ asked faintly, tilting her head to the side as she tried to meld the present and the past. "My memories from that time in my life...even before the kidnapping...are hazy."

"Too bad," a hard voice said suddenly from the doorway. "Your new little revelation about my daddy could have saved this family a world of misery," a masculine voice proclaimed bitterly, the words literally crashing into the otherwise quiet room.

Pursing her lips, Mrs. Hinds turned toward the newest addition to their group. "My son, Carson," she said, nodding toward the muscular man standing in the door. "Please excuse his behavior. I've tried to teach him manners. I'd hoped the Navy would curb those rough edges. It and I have failed," she said, frowning at him.

"I've got more reason than most for these rough edges, don't I, Mama?" he asked harshly, glaring across the room at Dave and JJ, his eyes lingering on the older profiler.

"The Navy, you say, Mrs. Hinds?" Dave asked, his intelligent eyes narrowing on the towering man leaning against the door frame, immediately recognizing the antagonism fairly emanating from the man.

"Yeah, Navy," Carson snarled, biting out the words. "I was in from '94 to 2000. Wasn't the life for me. Got a problem with that?"

"None at all," Dave said casually, eyeing the younger man again as he tightened his hand around JJ's. "What'd you do?"

"Do?" Carson snapped, his shoulders stiffening even more, obviously affronted at the question.

"He's asking what your job was on those boats, Car," Mary said impatiently, waving a dismissive hand at her only son. "Could you please stop doing your impression of a thick redneck? Ain't nobody impressed."

Clenching his jaw, the younger Mr. Hinds shrugged. "Don't see what it matters, but I was a medic. Served a tour followin' the first Iraq crap with Kuwait over in the Middle East. You want my full military jacket next?"

"No," Dave said pleasantly as he felt JJ's fingers tighten against his, refusing to be baited by the younger man. "It would be easy enough for me to obtain your service record if I needed it."

"What the fu-" Carson began angrily, taking a step into the room.

"Enough," Mrs. Hinds said in a hard voice, cutting off her son's vulgarity. "I've warned you that I won't listen to that language." Glancing over at the young woman seated on her couch, she added, "Please excuse my boy. He ain't usually this coarse."

"Please don't apologize, Mrs. Hinds. He has a very good reason to be angry. Especially if my suspicions are correct," JJ said, casting an apologetic glance at the other man. "If your father was innocent, I'm..."

"Save it, lady," Carson snorted, his eyes narrowing at the blonde. "Your little apology comes over twenty years too late."

Seeing her mother's face tighten, Mary stepped between her brother and the rest of the room. "Knock it off! What do you think upsettin' mama is gonna accomplish, big brother? Another trip to the ER?"

Backing down, Carson blew out a long breath as he had the grace to look sheepish for a moment. Looking over his sister's shoulder, he muttered, "I'm sorry, Mama. I'll get it together."

Watching the younger man as he stepped further into the room and sat heavily in one of the tweed armchairs in front of the fireplace, Dave felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he saw the tattoo on Carson's bicep. "You like ink, I see," he said neutrally, nodding toward the oversized green trident on the man's arm. Feeling JJ jerk at his comment, Dave pressed his leg against hers as he silently signaled for her to remain quiet.

"Got drunk on leave a few years back. Woke up with it," Carson shrugged easily, unconcerned by Dave's question. "Show me a sailor that didn't get at least one shore leave tat, and I'll show you a Mama's boy." Looking around the room with undisguised anger, Carson snorted. "I'm gettin' a beer," he muttered, pushing out of the chair to head toward the kitchen. "Then maybe ya'll can explain why the hell you're here," he called out over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for my son," Mrs. Hinds said again, gazing at JJ with a baleful look, pressing a gnarled hand to her cheek. "He had to grow up fast after Mitchell passed. Faster than a boy should have had to and it affected him."

"He's a good man," Mary added softly, glancing toward the door that her brother had just slipped through. "But he gets abrasive when the subject of Daddy comes up. He just can't help it."

"How old was he at the time of your husband's death?" Dave asked evenly.

"Ten," Mrs. Hinds said quietly. "He was the last one to talk to his daddy before...before," she said, struggling with the words, "before he went away," she finally got out, no other words capable of describing that horrible event.

Nodding as he distantly heard the refrigerator door shut, he felt JJ turn to him.

Her murmur was low in the quite, almost sepulchral, room. "I want to talk to him alone, Dave."

"No," Dave said firmly, dropping a heavy hand to JJ's leg to keep her from rising, his fingers tightening on her knee.

Watching the exchange unfolding in front of her, Mrs. Hinds said tersely, drawing her shoulders back, "My son wouldn't harm anyone."

"His police record indicates otherwise," Dave returned plainly, his words blunt, his attempts at pleasantries long gone.

"He got in a few bar fights after he came back from the military. I don't think that's uncommon," Mary said defensively, moving closer to her mother's chair. "He certainly never hurt a woman!" she hissed, glaring down at the man seated on her mother's sofa.

"Dave, please," JJ insisted, dropping her hand over his, her voice firm. "I think he'd open up more with me than you."

"She's probably right," Mrs. Hinds murmured, nodding slowly. "If you can get through that thick skin of his," she amended.

Releasing an irritated breath, Dave finally squeezed her knee, looking from her eyes to her gun pointedly. "Five minutes. That's all," he said in a hard voice, willing her to understand what he wasn't verbalizing.

"It takes as long as it takes," JJ retorted, rising, straightening her jacket as she turned toward the open doorway, her mind already running through the questions she wanted to ask.

"Five minutes and I come in," Dave returned implacably, watching as the woman he loved followed the same path Carson Hinds had taken.


	94. Chapter 93

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Three**

Stepping onto the cracked green linoleum of the kitchen floor, JJ's eyes easily found the tall, well built man leaning against the Formica covered counter, sipping from a long neck bottle. "Mr. Hinds?" she asked softly, keeping her distance as she let the man become accustomed to her presence.

"Mr. Hinds was my daddy," he grunted, taking another pull from the bottle between his lips. "My name's Carson."

"Fine," JJ assented, taking a step deeper in the room, "Carson, then. I want to apologize for Agent Rossi. He's very dedicated to finding the person responsible for these crimes."

"Guess it sticks in his craw that he fucked it all up all them years ago," Carson growled, tightening his fingers around the icy bottle in his hands.

"Based on the information the Agency had all those years ago, they were acting within the law," JJ tried to explain, watching the younger man carefully, his emotions evident on his expressive face. She didn't feel fear in his presence, but she could recognize that the man was obviously resentful of their presence. Not that she could blame him, she told herself again, unable to comprehend the sheer anger and distress the man must have harbored for all these years.

"An innocent man died, Agent McClellen...Jareau...whatever the fuck your name is now. Ain't no positive spin that you're gonna put on that for me," he said, narrowing his eyes on the woman standing next to his mother's scarred dining room table. "Their mistake cost my family more'n I care to think about."

"I have no doubt that's true," JJ agreed, looking around at the antiquated, but gleaming appliances, wondering how the Hinds family had managed to make ends meet, their main source of income passing with their husband and father. It was fairly obvious that the family home was well cared for and well loved, but it also just as apparent that it hadn't been renovated in years.

"You don't know shit," Carson spat, his fingers gripping the slick glass. "Not about my daddy. Not about my family. And, certainly not about me. You comin' round here, stirrin' up the past...what do you think that's doing to our name in this town?"

"Let me ask you a question, Carson. Do you WANT to see your father vindicated?" JJ asked evenly, sidestepping his venom, years of experience in public relations having taught her how to identify the main concerns. "Does it even matter to you anymore?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" Carson hissed, stomping angrily toward her.

"An honest one," JJ returned calmly, holding her ground as she merely met the man's eyes. "Your mother stated that you were the last one to have any contact with your father before he set out that evening for the cabin. I need you to tell me about that exchange."

"Maybe I don't remember. Maybe, like you, I've got some convenient amnesia 'bout that night," he glared, his breath coming fast as his stomach clenched, his eyes flashing again.

"Maybe you're a liar," JJ said, meeting his heavy stare with one of her own, the bright sunlight bouncing through the window and bathing him with a golden glow.

"Nosy bitch!" he hissed, remembering his last promise to his father, the one that he and he alone was privy to. "Leave this the fuck alone!" he growled, grabbing her arms in a painfully desperate grip. An unfortunate mistake on his part.

His footsteps silent on the old floor as he'd approached the kitchen, Dave watched the scene unfolding before him and watched as the younger man reached angrily for the small woman standing in front of him. Reacting without conscious thought, he reached for his gun as he rounded the counter, and had spun Carson around before either he or JJ could respond. Pressing the gun against the other man's neck as he shoved him roughly into the wall of the kitchen, Dave growled, "And here your family just assured me that you didn't hurt women, Carson."

"Let him go, David," JJ said from behind him, her voice insistent as she ignored the ache in her arm. "He didn't hurt me."

Ignoring her, Dave wrenched Carson's arm tighter up his back, pressing the barrel of his gun a little more deeply into the other man's skin. "What do you know, kid?"

"I know that you people are still as ignorant about what happened to those kids now as you were back then," Carson bit out, his face contorted against the wall, his feet slipping from side to side as he tried to escape the agent's grip.

"Dave!" JJ barked sharply, her eyes widening as she added, just as firmly, "Now!"

Releasing his grip on the other man, Dave took a step back, keeping his gun aimed at Carson Hinds. "Your father left a suicide note detailing his crimes. If he was so innocent, why did he do that? Why did he run that night? Innocent people don't run," Dave insisted, his voice hard as his eyes narrowed. "Was your daddy an accomplice, Carson? Were you aware of his crimes?"

"My daddy was a good God-fearing man, you bastard!" Carson hissed, rubbing his arm, never taking his eyes off the man holding him at gunpoint.

"Why are you so sure about that?" Dave ground out, shaking his head as he saw JJ move into his peripheral vision. "The evidence indicates otherwise. And, I'll say it again, innocent men don't run."

"They do if'n they're doin' it to save their family," Carson bit out softly with cold eyes. Casting a nervous glance toward the kitchen door, he flinched as he heard his mother yell, "Everything all right in there?"

Raising his hand for silence when Dave opened his mouth, Carson called back, his voice calmer than he felt, "Everything's fine, Mama. Just havin' a little chat with our guests." Lowering his voice an octave, Carson said, "I'm not discussin' this in here where they can hear." Jerking his head toward the back door, he muttered, "We can talk on the back porch."

Following the other man out the door, Dave carefully kept his body between the younger man and JJ, blocking any shot he might have to her, reminding himself to have a very serious conversation with her later about putting herself in the line of danger…again.

"Dave, put your gun away," JJ demanded quietly from behind him, her words just loud enough for his ears alone. "If the guy had really wanted to hurt me, he'd have done it when I walked in the room instead of standing there drinking a beer."

"You hadn't started asking questions yet, Jen," Dave growled, his gun remaining at the same level as before as he watched his prey step out onto the concrete slab.

Leaning against the aged post on the back porch as the two others closed the back door, Carson sighed. "I shouldn't have grabbed you like that," he told JJ regretfully, his head rubbing against the graying wood. "I'm sorry," he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "I been keepin' these secrets a lot of years. It's hard knowin' your father is innocent of crimes he didn't commit and knowing everybody else doubts him."

"Your mother and sister didn't doubt him," JJ denied quietly, pulling her jacket a bit closer around her as a gust of wind slid around them. The bright sun was deceiving, the air still cooler than she had expected it to be that morning.

"Mama never did," Carson agreed, his fists unclenching . "Mary has had her doubts over the years...says she don't...but I know she did."

"She had good reason to doubt your father. The evidence....the suicide note..." Dave's voice trailed off, deliberately leaving his statement open, waiting for the younger man to reveal whatever confirmation he possessed to support his reasoning.

Leveling Dave with a hard look, Carson shook his head. "They didn't know what I did," he said, pushing off the post and walking across the wooden planks toward a rusted tool box sitting innocuously in the corner.

"What are you going for, Hinds?" Dave asked dangerously, lifting his gun again and aiming it carefully as he reached out, unceremoniously sliding JJ behind him.

"MY evidence," Carson replied grimly as he opened the latch, not flinching at all as Dave's gun leveled on him once again.


	95. Chapter 94

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone still reading, reviewing, alerting or favoriting this story. Please continue letting us hear from you. It makes our day. And that's it until Sunday, guys, I've gotta get you some chapters written over the next couple of days! As ever, we only on the plot, not Criminal Minds.**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Four**

"Dave," JJ whispered, moving her hand to gently press his down, physically lowering his weapon. "He's not interested in hurting either of us," she said, watching carefully as Carson dropped to his knees, rifling deeply through the contents of the case.

"I've been holdin' on to this letter for twenty-five years. Knew there was something that kept me from burning it like Daddy told me to. I guess this is it," Carson murmured, rising to his feet again, a folded yellowed paper in hand.

"What is that?" Dave asked, gesturing toward the sheet he held.

"This," Carson said, holding the sheet aloft almost dramatically,"is probably the only piece of real evidence you have. Or will have," he amended easily. "It's a letter the real murderer sent my father. He got it the afternoon of his death."

"You have correspondence from our unsub and you've been holding onto it for over twenty years?" Dave ground out, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he took a step forward. "Do you have any ideas how many lives you've cost people?"

"I'm not concerned with the lives of others, Agent Rossi. I was concerned with saving my own blood. Just like my father told me to be," Carson retorted angrily, his fingers clenching around the paper, crinkling the already aged edges.

Stepping between the two men, JJ kept her eyes on the younger man as she said evenly, "What're you saying, Carson?"

"I'm saying that my father didn't have a choice all those years ago." Swallowing, he turned to stare out over dead grass of the back yard, his eyes almost glazing over as he focused on the distant horizon. "I remember it like it happened yesterday. We were out in that shed back there," he said softly, nodding toward the dilapidated wooden structure at the back of their property. "We was workin' on my four wheeler. I wanted to go ridin' that weekend," he explained, his voice trailing off into silence as he just continued to stare.

"Then what, Carson," JJ prodded gently, edging closer to the other man despite Dave's hand on her arm, needing to close the distance if they were going to figure out this piece of the puzzle.

"We heard somebody outside the door. I 'member looking over at the door and seein' a folded paper bein' slid underneath. Thought it was Mary," he said ruefully, staring at the pitted concrete under his feet. "She'd takin' to passin' notes to us like they do in school. We even ignored it for a few minutes, waitin' on 'er to come in and ask us what she thought of whatever fool question she'd set down."

"But it wasn't her," JJ urged, her hand reaching out in supplication, "Was it?"

"No," Carson said with a vigorous shake of his head as his hand fell to his side. "It wasn't from Mary," he said softly, staring down at the sheet he held. "I'll never forget Daddy's face when he read this thing," he mumbled, the words tight as his memories surfaced. "That alone was enough to make my blood run cold. But when I got up the courage to read it later...after Daddy'd left....I..." Squeezing his eyes shut, he whispered, his words clenching, "I shoulda told."

"Tell us now, Carson," JJ said softly, seeing the strain on the older man's face. Years of holding a secret inside that he should never have been asked to keep had taken its toll on him. That much was obvious. And if anyone knew the dangers of repressed memories, of hidden secrets, it was her. And she couldn't bear to see another soul live through the same horros.

"She's right," Dave said softly, his calm voice adding weight to JJ's request as he stepped closer behind her. "There's nothing for you to gain by hiding whatever it is you know now, Carson."

"I hope to God you're right about something for a change," Carson bit out, straightening as he zoned in on Dave with his gaze.

"What has you frightened, kid?" Dave asked steadily, never wavering from the laser-like stare .

"Whoever did this," Carson said, gesturing fruitlessly into the breezy air, the paper fluttering in his hand, "he's a sick bastard. That wasn't my father. Dad got these instructions the evening they found you, Agent Jareau," he said, lifting the paper.

"Instructions?" JJ said faintly, eyeing the seemingly innocent document, alternately desperate to read the information and yet dreading it at the same time.

"Yes, ma'am. Instructions. Whoever this freak is had been watching our family. He knew things about us...knew Daddy had two little innocent kids. And he threatened to kill us if Daddy didn't cooperate." Looking from JJ to Dave, he continued, his voice insistent, "You remember what it was like here back then. People were scared. Terrified, even. And Daddy wasn't any different. He'd have done near anything to protect Mary and me. The letter gave directions to that cabin. It ain't far from here. It told him to come on foot and that's what he did. Took off through those woods back there," he said, nodding toward the tree line that bordered the edge of the property. "It was the last time I ever saw him...disappearin' through them maple trees over yonder at a run."

"I'm so sorry, Carson," JJ said, her heart wrenching as she saw the utter devastation in the other man's eyes, once again feeling a kinship with him as she remembered her own loss…remembered the last time she had seen her sister alive.

"He took me aside afore he left and told me what was happenin'. He knew he wasn't gonna come home alive. Told me to take care of Mama and Mary...and that no matter what got said to know that he loved us more than anything. Mama don't even know about this," he said dully, lifting the paper. Gazing at Dave, he murmured, heavily, "If'n you found a suicide note with a confession, it was a lie. Somebody had to make him write it. And if he wrote it, he did it because he was scared for us at home," he said with a touch of finality, passing the paper to Dave.

Closing her eyes, JJ shivered as the memories crept over her again, the past once again colliding with the present.

_"Don't do this!" Mitchell Hinds begged, his back hunched over the paper shoved in front of him. _

_"Write!" a disembodied voice commanded harshly. "Or they all die...just like that!" JJ watched as a pointing hand passed in front of her dull eyes._

_"God!" Mitchell moaned. "How could you do this? To an innocent girl! A baby!" he screamed, looking at the lifeless body of Lacy McClellen. _

_"Write! Or your daughter's body will be laying right beside her soon," that voice threatened._

_"Please," Mitchell begged. "Let the other little girl go. I'll do whatever you want me to do, just let her go."_

Snapping back to the present as she felt Dave's strong hand shaking her, JJ blinked at him dully, her heart pounding in her ears as she felt her knees weaken for a moment.

"Jen! Jen, damn it! Snap out of it!" Dave ordered tightly, shaking her slightly as his eyes widened with worry.

"He begged for my life," JJ whispered shakily, leaning closer to him as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, his strength holding her up again. "He pled with the unsub to spare me," she breathed, her eyes filling with unbidden tears.

"Now, THAT...that sounds like the father I knew," Carson said quietly from behind them, a note of hope coloring his otherwise sad voice.


	96. Chapter 95

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Five**

Turning toward Dave, JJ wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to stop the trembling in her fingers. "I saw him, Dave. He didn't do it. He saw me and Lacy." Pausing as she tried to catch her breath, her words catching in her throat, she glanced over at Carson Hinds as she whispered, "Your father saw the real killer."

His arm tightening around her shoulder, Dave drew her attention back to him as he demanded, softly, "Jen, tell me what you saw. What you heard."

Letting herself fall against him for the barest second, JJ closed her eyes, fighting the nausea threatening to rise as she murmured, "He was yelling. The man that hurt me and Lacy was yelling."

"What did his voice sound like? Did you recognize it?" Dave probed, hating himself for asking the questions, for forcing her to relive those horrible moments. But he tamped down that anger, knowing that somehow, this trip down memory lane had triggered the violent memories for her, giving them the ammunition they could use to keep that bastard from hurting her again.

Shaking her head as she blinked once, opening her eyes again, JJ met his dark, troubled gaze as she whispered, forcing herself to analyze the memory as unemotionally as possible, "He was loud. And angry. It was a deep voice. But I don't think I'd ever heard it before."

Watching the interplay between the two agents, Carson Hinds interrupted immediately, shaking his head, "My father's voice was a tenor. Even when he was mad or yelling, it kept the same tone."

"Carson's right," JJ replied, her voice still weaker than normal, her mind still processing the pictures in her mind. "Mr. Hinds voice was much higher than the other voice." Shivering again as a breeze blew across the porch, she shook her head as she felt the thoughts start to fade. "I'm losing it right now, Dave."

Pulling her closer, Dave wrapped an arm around her trembling body as Carson shifted guiltily behind her.

"I'm sorry. At the time, I was a kid, too. And this town lived and breathed fear of the monster that did this. Daddy told me to keep Mary safe. That note makes it clear what he'd have done if I breathed a word. And after daddy was killed, I didn't have any reason to doubt that he'd come for my sister," Carson explained, his eyes clouding as he watched the young woman in front of him fight for control, recognizing the trauma that still pervaded her as much as he knew it was in his own soul.

Resting his chin against JJ's head as his body took her slight weight, Dave nodded tersely, his hands sliding comfortingly against her back. "But he's still out there, Kid. And he never stopped killing. Your sister is in as much danger as she ever was. We'll post guards around her and your mother until he's caught, but you need to be on your guard. You all do."

"One question, Agent Rossi," Carson replied softly, barely able to believe the last few moments had actually happened, that his family was to receive some sort of vindication.

"Yeah," Dave replied, rocking JJ gently in his arms, her shivers slowly receding as her breaths became more even.

"Do you believe us now?" Carson asked deeply, waiting for the other man to meet his eyes, needing to have that final assurance.

"Yeah, Kid. I do. When this is over, I'll make sure your father's name is cleared," Dave nodded, turning his dark gaze on the young man that had lived through hell for as many years as JJ had. "We owe that much to Mitchell Hinds."

"We need to visit the cabin," JJ mumbled against his shirt then, her thoughts beginning to clear as she tried to put the events in order again. Her fingers slid against the lapel of his sports coat as she added, "We need to go where it happened. It might unlock something else."

Hearing her weak voice, Dave glanced down, his head already shaking negatively as his arms pulled her tighter. "Not today, Jen. You're pale as a ghost and can barely stand as it is. There's no way I'm gonna let you push yourself any further right now."

"We're running out of time, Dave. He's already killed again. Just take me over there," JJ demanded, her voice gaining strength as she finally pushed out of his arms, fighting against his strong grip. Swinging her gaze toward Carson, she said firmly, her shoulders stiffening, "Or you could do it. You know where it is, don't you?"

Nodding cautiously, Carson met Dave's dark eyes as they flashed in warning. "I do. But it's a rough trek gettin' back there, Agent McCl-, I mean Jareau. And if you don't mind me sayin', you do look a mite peaked."

"As a matter of fact, I do mind," JJ ground out angrily, looking between the two men, knowing well that look of defiance flashing in Dave's eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest, she muttered, "Where the hell is Gideon when I need him."

"With Anne. Talking to the other victim's families," Dave said shortly, his hands fisting at his sides as he resisted the urge to shake some sense into the persistent beauty. "And if you're determined to go out there, we can do it tomorrow before we fly out. Not today," Dave replied, his voice hard and unyielding as a cold wind blew across the back porch, sending dead leaves scattering over their feet. "Right now, we need to concentrate on finishing this questioning." Looking at Carson, Dave asked, shifting as he turned his shoulders, "Is there anything else about that time that stands out in your mind?"

"Besides the stark fear? Not really," Carson said regretfully, shaking his head as he stared thoughtfully.

"Anybody new that was hanging around your family? Anyone you noticed watching you?" Dave prodded, keeping his arm wrapped around JJ's waist even though she had stiffened angrily. While he wasn't deliberately intending to incur her wrath, he also refused to allow her to put herself in any more danger to her health, no matter what she thought was best.

"Man, I was ten...Mary was only six....not that I recall," Carson shrugged, his lips twitching as he shook his head. "But I ain't sure I would have noticed. Mama and Daddy were keepin' us kids close...but I think that was more because every parent in a hundred mile radius was scared silly then. Wasn't anybody riskin' anything, what with that bastard on the loose."

"How do you think he selected your father, Carson?" JJ asked quietly, searching for some clue, some stone that they had left unturned, ignoring Dave's hand at her waist. "Whether we know it or not...he chose your dad for a reason."

"I've spent years wonderin' that very thing, ma'am," Carson replied, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Daddy was a semi-popular man. He worked at the factory. He went to church. Back then, he'd just gotten into purebred Alaskan huskies. The week afore he was killed, he'd finally saved enough to buy his first one." Pausing for a moment, he swallowed hard as he muttered, "Had to sell her to help pay on the bills." Shaking himself out of the past memories, he added, "This...whatcha call him...unsub coulda seen daddy anywhere."

"So, we're still standing at square one," JJ sighed, turning to stare out over the back field, imagining the man that had tried to save her running through those trees, searching for that cabin.

"No," Dave shook his head firmly, tightening his grip around her waist. "We're not," he said assuredly, fingering the aged and crinkly note from the unsub. We've got his handwriting now. And that could tell us a lot. The way he writes could tell us a lot. We need to get this back to Reid. I'll have it scanned and emailed to him as soon as we get back to the hotel this afternoon."

Turning back as she leveled eyes filled with pain and regret on Carson Hinds, JJ whispered, her breath catching in her throat again, "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, Carson."

Shaking his head, Carson sighed, scuffing his foot against the old concrete. "Daddy knew how this was gonna end the second he read that letter. He might not have known how he was gonna die, but he knew he wasn't comin' home. And I know he woulda saved all them girls if he coulda. He was that kind of man, Agent Jareau. You didn't do nothin' wrong. Then or now. Just find the man responsible for this. That's how YOU," he said, staring at Dave, his tone deepening, "can make this right. It's all that can be done now."

Nodding once, JJ whispered, her eyes glancing back at the door that led to the kitchen, "We'd like to apologize to your mother and sister, too, if it's okay. Then, we'll get out of your way."

"I think Mama would appreciate that," Carson nodded, taking a step toward them as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "But she don't want your apologies. She just wants the truth about her husband released."

"She'll have it," Dave assured him quietly, his tone sincere as he turned with JJ to follow the young man. "I can promise you that."


	97. Chapter 96

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Six**

Tilting his head as he stared at the silent redhead in the driver's seat, Jason Gideon wondered if she was ever going to speak a word to him that was not related to the current case. For the past four hours, all communication between them had been strictly oriented to either the victims' families they had been interviewing or to a terse discussion of directions to the next location. She had firmly resisted every overture he had made to change the topic or expand their repertoire, cutting him off with stilted one word answers or, as the case had been over the last half hour, just completely ignoring him all together.

Feeling his phone vibrate, his attention diverted from staring at her profile to the small lit screen. Quickly reading the test message, he could feel her eyes staring over at him. Glancing up, he met her inquiring gaze as he murmured, waving the phone slightly, "Rossi and JJ are finished with the Hinds. He says they'll be back at the hotel in about an hour."

Shifting the vehicle into another lane as she passed a slow moving elderly driver, Anne nodded once as she asked, her voice neutral, "Did he say if they've got any new leads yet?"

"Nope. Said he'd give us the updates when he sees us," Gideon answered, dropping the phone back into his lap as he leaned back in the bucket seat. "I'd say the man's more interested in getting JJ back to a safe place right now."

"That wouldn't surprise me," Anne said, her eyes straight ahead as she monitored the distance between them and the large truck in front. "He's quite protective of her."

"That's putting it mildly," Gideon snorted, glancing out the window as they entered the main area of Hopkinsville. Glancing down at his watch, he asked, a plan formulating in his mind, "I don't know about you, but that so-called continental breakfast from this morning is long gone. I think it's about time to take a lunch break, don't you?"

"Actually, I'm fine," Anne replied without looking at him, her eyes glancing into the rear view mirror for a moment. "But I can swing through a drive-thru for you," she offered with an even tone.

Pursing his lips as he noted her tense posture, Gideon deliberated his next move. He could ignore the warning signs emanating from her stiff body or he could forge ahead. Never one to turn his back on a challenging situation, he asked bluntly, "Are you intending to simply ignore what happened between us last night, Red, or are we going to act like grown-ups and talk about it?"

Jaw tightening, Anne's hands clenched the steering wheel as his slow voice asked the question she'd been silently dreading all morning. How the hell had she managed to get herself into this situation? Mentally rolling her eyes, she knew that was a wasted thought. Combine grief with copious amounts of alcohol and you do things you'd never allow your sober self to do....no matter how many fantasies you might have had. Inhaling deeply in an effort to control herself, Anne shook her head as she kept her eyes glued to the windshield. "I don't think there's a lot to be said. We got drunk and had sex. I don't think it's really something we need to analyze to death, is it?"

"You do remember what I do for a living, right?" Jason asked, his lips quirking as he carefully watched her expression.

Sighing as she maneuvered their SUV through the lunchtime traffic of the small city, Anne felt the tension creeping up her spine. "I remember, Gideon. Your ego doesn't allow anyone to forget."

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, Anne," Gideon said softly.

"Then you're doing a miserable job," Anne muttered, staring out the window as the traffic ground to a halt, her foot easing down against the brake.

"So you'd rather I play the part of insensitive asshole and pretend it never happened?" Gideon asked evenly, watching her avert her face.

"It would certainly feel more comfortable than having this conversation," Anne muttered under her breath. Drawing in a deep breath, she mentally shook herself, forcing her mind to think clearly before she made a mistake she couldn't fix. Turning abruptly, she said, evenly, "Look, Jason, you're free and clear here. No recriminations...I'm not bitter...Can't we just drop it?"

"Anne, we haven't picked it up," Jason said impatiently, silently willing her to be reasonable, although he had a feeling that his definition of the word differed greatly from hers. "And, coincidentally, I'm not a big believer in avoiding the elephant in the room."

"No, you're much more of the bull in the china shop, aren't you?" Anne said, rolling her eyes as she moved the vehicle forward, traffic once again moving.

"It's not as though I go looking for confrontation, Anne," Gideon snorted. Couldn't the stubborn woman see that he was simply trying to clear the air between them?

"It just seems to find you, right?" Anne smiled involuntarily. Momentarily silent, she said more softly, "I made an impulsive decision last night. The last one of those I made ended with me married to a man that spent the better part of ten years cheating on me with anything wrapped in a skirt that had a pulse. So, perhaps you'll understand that I don't really want to spend a lot of time dwelling on something I can't change. It's embarrassing and immature and..."

"And you want to pretend it never happened," Gideon supplied helpfully, enjoying the flush creeping over her high cheekbones. She really was beautiful, he thought, memories of her porcelain skin flashing in her mind. Maybe Dave was right. Maybe it was time to investigate the possibility that this was more than a passing attraction. God knew she was fascinating...a perfect blend of mystery and innocence.

"Exactly," Anne said, heaving a relieved breath. "I think we're finally on the same page."

"It's not happening, Red," Gideon replied with a grim smile as Anne's jaw dropped and a horn blared behind them. "And you might want to move before the semi behind us decides to drive over us," he suggested, nodding at the road as she stared dumbly at him.

"Why!?" Anne huffed, stomping on the accelerator and throwing them forward with a jerk. "Why did I have to pick the biggest egomaniac in the tri-state area to have a one night stand with?" she ranted aloud, uncaring that the subject of her wrath sat beside her, intently listening to every word. "Wasn't it enough that I was married to one for ten freaking years, God?" she yelled to the heavens, her words echoing through the vehicle. "I served my time in hell! I want out!"

Clearing his throat as he fought against the laughter bubbling within, Gideon offered her a sidelong glance. "I'm fairly certain the Almighty might have more pressing matters than intervening in your love life. You know, War in the Middle East...the drug cartels in Mexico..."

"Jason," Anne bit out, barely resisting the urge to scream as she erratically pulled over on the side of the road.

"Yes?" he asked, frowning as the vehicle stopped, his eyes meeting hers.

"GET. OUT!" she ordered shrilly, yanking the emergency brake.

His seat belt tightening against him as she slammed on the brakes, Gideon cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I don't believe I stuttered," Anne snapped tightly as she flicked on the hazard lights, a faint beeping sounding inside the small vehicle. "Move. Now."

Waving his hand toward the windshield, Gideon leaned forward as he commented, drily, "In case you've missed it, Red, we're not exactly in a major metropolitan area any more. I don't think there's a bus or taxi within a hundred miles."

"You've got two legs," she responded immediately, her voice brooking no argument on his part as she pointed toward his door. "If you use them as well as you've been using that mouth of yours, then you'll be just fine."

Leveling a stern glare on her, Gideon caught the flash of ire flickering through her eyes. "Is this how you handle all your problems, Anne? If you don't like what someone is saying, you just run away from the situation? Perhaps that explains.."

"Oh my God, would you just listen to yourself?" Anne exploded, pounding her hand against the steering wheel, the vehicle rocking slightly as an eighteen wheeler passed with a whoosh. "You're intent on driving me crazy, aren't you? That's what you've decided to do, isn't it?"

"I've just been participating in a free exchange of ideas," Gideon defended himself, keeping his face neutral as he watched her shoulders stiffen again. "And considering that we've shared an emotional link, I would have thought that you would have been interested in exploring our feelings. But, of course, if you're intent on maintaining that stiff façade that you've cloaked yourself with, that is your choice." Seeing her mouth open as her eyes narrowed dangerously, he held up a hand in peace as he added, "I'll not say another word, Anne. You have my word." Until we arrive at our destination, he added silently, fully intending to revisit this entire conversation at a later date.

"You? Completely silent? That'll be the day," Anne muttered, slapping her hand against the turn signal viciously and glancing over her shoulder before returning to the highway. "I knew I should have taken that job in Louisiana," she groaned under her breath as she cut a dark look in his direction. "Alligators in the Bayou would have been a treat compared to you."


	98. Chapter 97

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Seven**

Letting out a deep sigh as he closed the door to the hotel room behind him, Dave cocked an eyebrow as he watched the petite blonde throw her bag on the bed as she violently kicked her shoes across the room. Shaking his head as he threw the safety lock into place, he turned toward her as he asked, his voice even, "What do you want for lunch, Jen, and I'll place a call to room service. And don't tell me just soup or a salad. You're going to have something that has a large piece of meat in it this time."

"I believe that I'm more than capable of determining my own nutritional needs without your oversight, thank you very much." Turning on the ball of her stocking-covered foot, JJ slammed her fists against her hips as she snorted, "And we could have taken care of lunch, Dave, on the way to check out the cabin. But someone seemed to think that I wasn't capable of taking care of myself. In case you missed it, David Rossi, I'm an accomplished agent of the FBI and more than able to make my own choices and assist in the case."

"What you are, Jen, in this specific case," Dave shot back as he stepped toward the side desk, modulating his voice at the last moment, "is a victim. A victim who just experienced a traumatic revelation pertaining to the case. And I'm not about to let you put yourself through the ringer again before you're physically ready for it."

Her eyes narrowing as she tracked his movements, JJ ground out, "Honest to God, you have got to be the most infuriating man that I have ever met. We may be in a relationship together, Rossi, but that doesn't mean that you can self-appoint yourself as my guardian or my keeper. I'm above the age of consent and a sentient human being, so I believe the Constitution of the United States guarantees me a few rights, first of all to make my own choices as long as I don't break the law. And seeing as how going to the cabin would be that exact opposite since it would be advancing the case and help us actually solve it, then I don't get where you think you've got the right to become the lord and master of MY universe!"

"Damn it, Jen," Dave growled as he reached for the leather-covered hotel information, feeling his anger growing as her tirade gained steam, "You know that's not what I'm trying to do."

"That's exactly what you're trying to do," JJ said, matching his tone as she moved toward him and jabbed a finger into his chest. "You're trying to take over my life. Telling me what to do. When to do it. How to do it. Taking away my right to make a decision for myself," she accused hotly, feeling her cheeks start to warm. "I won't stand for it," she yelled, slamming a hand against his chest as he fell back against the door. Whirling around, JJ grabbed a pair of jeans out of her go bag and her sneakers out of the floor and turned toward the bathroom.

"Now what the hell are you doing?" Dave asked, his voice frustrated as he watched her hands jerk through her clothes.

Turning to glare at him, JJ held her clothes tightly against her chest, almost as if she was trying to create a physical barrier. "What am I doing, your holiness? Why, I'm going to change into more appropriate clothing and then I'm going to drive out to the cabin and see if a memory sparks that will help close this case," she bit out, marching across the room to stare him directly in the eye, daring him to tell her she'd be doing otherwise.

"Over my dead body," Dave said clearly and evenly, narrowing his eyes as he met her flashing bright blue eyes with his own glittering orbs. Tossing the once-important menu down on the small desk, he ignored the plop it made as the edge hit the desk phone, clattering them both against the wall.

"That can be arranged, especially if you think I'm going to allow any more of your heavy handed tactics," JJ retorted, smiling grimly as she allowed herself to spend a second imagining the very actions she could take to bring about that event. As far as she was concerned, it could be a long, drawn out affair or quick and easy. Either way, he had definitely earned her wrath, and she was going to inflict as much pain as possible.

Temper snapping at her last words, Dave ripped the shoes from her arms, violently throwing them across the room. "Enough," Dave yelled as the sneakers bounced off the wall behind them, landing haphazardly on the bed that they had shared just hours prior. "You haven't begun to see my heavy handed tactics, Jennifer," Dave shouted, wrapping his hands around her arms and turning them so that it was JJ now backed against the wall.

Eyes boring into hers, Dave leaned forward, his hot breath fanning her face as he hissed, "You haven't even started experiencing what happens when I become heavy handed, JJ. That happens when I remove you from this shit by force and slam your ass into a safe house until the team manages to find this psycho! You keep pushing me, though. Just try it. And I guarantee you, you'll see it. I will NOT allow you to be hurt any more than you already have, damn it," he growled, ripping the jeans from her arms as she gaped at him, her mouth open in a perfectly rounded O. Throwing the denim at the floor angrily, he slid his hands around her hips as he pinned her to the door. "I love you, damn it! I'll do whatever I have to in order to keep you breathing. Deal with it."


	99. Chapter 98

_**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. I'm extremely grateful and truly appreciate hearing from each of you. I'm going to try and get some writing done tomorrow, so, the next post will be Friday. Thanks!! As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds.**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Eight**

"No!" JJ shouted, equally enraged, her momentary surprise passing as her anger slammed back to the surface as she ignored the unforgiving steel behind her. "You deal with this. You can't make me do anything. Loving me doesn't give you any kind of power over me. I want this over," she yelled, slamming her fists against his muscled chest as she pushed hard against the cage he created around her. "And I want to do everything I can to end it as fast as I can. If you think you're going to keep hampering every move I try to make, you've lost your mind. I can make my own decisions. And right now, I'm deciding that I want to see that hell hole he kept us all in."

"I never said you couldn't, Jen," Dave barked, trying desperately to tamp down on the anger and fear coursing through his body, knowing that she was only feeding off his rising emotions. But unfortunately for both of them, their anger levels had surpassed any self-control that either one of them might have hoped to employ. "I said you needed to rest first. To regain the energy you used with the Hinds family. What the fuck is so unreasonable about that?"

"Because it's stupid, that's why. We were right there! Less than fifteen minutes away," JJ argued, balling her fingers in the soft material of his shirt as she shook him, trying to remove that stubborn mask from his face. "Honest to God, Rossi, I could have walked to the freaking cabin! We could already have had this behind me instead of dragging it out!"

"And after we left the Hinds house, you were shaking so badly that you could barely stand, and it looked like somebody had walked over your fucking grave, Jennifer," Dave added sternly, meeting her flashing blue orbs with equal intensity. "Yeah, traipsing through the woods and going back to that shack was exactly what you needed to be doing, wasn't it?" Dave asked harshly, tightening his hands against her hips. "Not on my fucking watch!"

"It wasn't your decision to make," JJ groaned in frustration and rapidly escalating anger, the urge to scream wildly assailing her as she met his hard eyes.

"It is my decision when I think you're in danger. Physically or emotionally," Dave denied implacably, his hands tightening on her slim waist. "At the risk of sounding repetitive here, I love you. I'm not gonna apologize for doing what's best for you," he said, shaking his head at her stubborn glare.

In all of her thirty something years on this round globe that served as her home, Jennifer Jareau was certain that she had never been more furious at another human being than she was at this very moment. How in the world had she ever believed that she could have a relationship with this infuriating, self-aggrandizing male chauvinist? If this is how he wanted to progress whatever it was that currently existed between them, then he was about to have a very rude awakening.

Eyes narrowing as her jaw clenched, JJ said ordered tightly, her words clipped "Well, let me tell you what's best for you, Dave. Get the hell away from me."

"So you can go chasing a nightmare, Jen?" Dave replied sarcastically, cocking a brow as he stared into her penetrating gaze. "Without me? Not fucking likely."

Smacking the hands bracketing her hips, JJ growled as she brought down her bare foot against his shoe, "I swear to God, Dave, I'm going to kill you."

"Give it your best shot, babe," Dave taunted, crowding her against the door, holding her into place, "I don't die so easy."

"Bastard," JJ hissed, slamming a fist against his shoulder as she felt his hard body shift against hers. "Oh my God!" JJ muttered indignantly, her mind comprehending exactly how he felt, "Are you actually hard right now? Fighting with me turns you on?"

Biting back a grin at her pert voice, Dave easily held her struggling body against the solid door. "If you don't like the change in terrain, quit wriggling," he demanded, sliding his fingers underneath the edge of her shirt to reach her warm skin. "And for the record," he whispered hotly, dropping his mouth against her ear as she shivered involuntarily, "I'm always hard when I've got your body molded to mine. You can't hold that against me."

"Bet," JJ snorted, valiantly trying to ignore his lips as they glided across the throbbing pulse in her neck. But her attempts to ignore that amazing feeling that flooded through her were all in vain.

"Come on, Jen," Dave said, lowering his voice as his hands smoothed up her sides, his thumbs skirting the edge of her breasts, "You know I'm not trying to upset you. I know you understand that you need protection right now, don't you?"

Feeling her body begin to betray her, softening against his hard contours, JJ groaned again, this time her anger tempered with a slight edge of passion. "Stop that," she ordered faintly as she realized that somehow his marauding hands had slipped underneath her loose fitted shirt and were now tracing sensual patterns across her skin, touching all the right spots with a talent that absolutely amazed and excited her. "I'm pissed," she warned, silently reminding herself that she was still righteously angry. Use that anger, Jareau, she tried to remind herself as she felt his body shift against her once again.

"I'm not exactly singing myself over here, Jen," Dave murmured, dragging his lips across her neck as she arched into his body, giving him a much better expanse of skin to explore. "But I'm a firm believer in venting frustration in a productive manner," he breathed against her ear, his fingers quickly flying down the buttons of her dress shirt.

Feeling her body being lifted against his as his mouth covered hers, JJ moaned as his tongue plunged into her mouth. Sliding her tongue aggressively against his, they dueled for dominance, each determined to prove that he or she was in control.

Groaning against her voracious lips, Dave ground himself against her heat as he lifted her skirt out of the way, the thin fabric bunching at her petite waist. "Want you," he ground out against her mouth, dropping one hand to the zipper of his jeans, rapidly eliminating the barriers between his flesh and hers.


	100. Chapter 99

******_Author's Note: Thanks again to everyone that is reading, reviewing, alerting or favoriting our stories. We truly appreciate hearing from each and every one of you in whatever way you choose to communicate. With ten ongoing stories, this will probably be the last post until Sunday afternoon/evening. Hopefully, we'll be able to bring back some quality chapters to you. As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds._**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter Ninety-Nine**

Squealing against his lips as she felt his heat prodding her, JJ forced herself to rip her mouth from his as she squirmed against him, teasing his hard manhood. "Condom," she panted, wrapping her legs around his hips as she fought the desire building to simply allow herself to lower her body onto his throbbing heat.

"Shit!" Dave muttered, pressing a kiss against her lips as he turned them toward the bed. "You remember now?" he laughed against her neck, making the three short steps to the mattress, her body firmly wrapped around his.

"Better to remember now, rather than later. You wouldn't have remembered at all," JJ accused, catching her breath as one of his hands fondled her breast while his other groped for the nightstand drawer.

"I can't deny the obvious," Dave murmured, quickly sheathing himself before levering himself back over her. "Do you want this, Jen?" Dave asked, pausing to stare down into her clear eyes, willing himself to wait for her answer, good or bad. "We can stop."

"I want you," JJ replied easily, her voice throaty, linking her arms around his neck as she draped a leg around his still jean clad leg. "But I'm still gonna be angry when we're done."

"I can live with that," Dave said roughly, sinking into her wet body. Groaning harshly as he felt her tight walls surrounding his body, her muscles clenching him tightly, his mind suddenly lost the ability for all rational thought. "God, Sweetheart," he breathed reverently, stilling his body to relish the feel of her surrounding him.

"David," JJ moaned as she felt her body stretch willingly, desperately needing more. "Don't stop," she begged, lifting her head to capture his lips with hers as she squirmed beneath him, struggling to pull him closer.

Setting a hard rhythm that had them both gasping in mere minutes, Dave watched her eyes widen as her peak neared, her pupils dilating as she ground her hips against his. "So beautiful," he whispered, linking the fingers of their hands together as they moved on the bed, the creaking of the springs accompanying their every movement.

Moaning as she felt that pinnacle she needed hovering just beyond her reach, JJ keened as his fingers easily slid between them, pushing her higher with each flick of his thumb.

Dropping his head against her neck as their bodies strained for release, he whispered, "Come for me, honey. I want to feel that sweet body clench mine," he demanded hoarsely, needing to hear and feel her release as much as he needed his own.

Screaming his name against his neck, JJ felt release seize her brutally, hurling her into the sun as he groaned deeply against her shoulder. "Oh, God! Dave!" JJ keened, digging her nails into his back as she grasped him tightly, frantic for something solid as her world spun out of control.

"Love you so much," he panted, his strokes becoming desperate and unmeasured as her body squeezed his. And suddenly that almost painful pleasure engulfed him, too, as his body bowed over hers.

He wasn't sure whether minutes or hours had passed when he found the energy to lift his head from her sweaty chest. The only thing he was aware of was her soft body holding his, her hands stroking his sweat soaked back beneath his shirt. "Jen..."

"Shhh," she whispered, smoothing her fingers over his muscles, "Don't ruin the moment by being you," JJ chastised him with a teasing grin as she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Funny girl," he grunted, rolling off her to his side while he dealt with the condom quickly. Pulling her back into his arms, he sighed as she fit herself against him, her bottom nestled to his groin as his chest cuddled her back. "You okay?" he whispered against her hair, sweeping a loose lock away from her cheek.

"No," she snorted, rolling her eyes, not caring that he couldn't see her. "But, I'm better," she relented slightly when she felt him stiffen behind her, reaching back to rest a hand on his jean-covered hip.

Releasing a relieved breath, he rested his chin against her head. "Told you this would be a good release for some of our frustration."

"Some," JJ muttered, almost unwilling to admit that simple fact, her body reminding her that he had been right about that one thing. "Not all," she reminded him, looking over her shoulder into his dark eyes. "I don't like to be controlled, Dave. I'll fight you every step of the way."

"I don't wanna control you, Jen. But, I don't want to lose you. To a psycho or your nightmares...so can't you try to cut me some slack here?" he asked tiredly, pulling a white-cased pillow about to prop beneath their heads.

"Only if you can do the same," JJ replied evenly, her fingers tightening around his arm. "I need to see that cabin, Dave."

"Fine," Dave muttered, lacing their fingers together as he tucked her closer. "We'll go this afternoon. But after that, I call the shots, Jen. Understood?"

Realizing that pushing him much further right now would be a mistake, JJ relaxed against him, letting her body fall back against his completely. "I understand." She could shelve her arguments about his dictatorial attitude for another day. Right now, she had more important things to concentrate on.

But apparently, at that moment, her body was agreeing with Dave's assessment that she needed to rest, her sudden burst of energy fizzling out to complete fatigue. Yawning slightly as she felt him pull the thin sheet over their tightly wrapped bodies, JJ blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the floral patterned wallpaper, on anything that would keep her from falling into the arms of Morpheus so quickly.

Feeling her eyes starting to slip shut, his warmth and roaming hands lulling her into a state of complete relaxation, she tried to hold onto consciousness for one last moment. But sleep was imminent. And the last thought she could remember was Dave's whispered, "I love you, JJ."


	101. Chapter 100

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred**

**Sunshine, Pennsylvania**

Walking into the deserted office cum war room, Emily's eyes easily found Hotch's bent dark head, his focus obviously intent on whatever latest report had been sent their way. Sliding a steaming cup of coffee on the scarred wooden table beside a stack of scattered files, Emily murmured, "I figured you could use some liquid fuel."

Jerking his head upright at her quiet words, Hotch allowed himself a moment of joy, her heart shaped face providing him a moment's distraction from the chaos they were submersed in. "Hey...," he smiled, lightly touching her knee as she perched on the table beside him, letting his eyes rest on hers. "I'm sorry about this morning. I didn't want to wake you and I needed to get in here and talk to the locals."

"It's fine, Hotch," Emily said, waving him off with a careless hand as she took a sip of her own coffee, the morning jolt a necessity. "I know you've got a job to do. We both do."

"That doesn't mean that I still didn't like leaving you alone in bed," he murmured, his dark eyes seeking hers, willing her to understand.

"It's okay," she said softly, covering his fingers where they rested on her knee. Clearing her throat as a muffled thud filtered through the closed door of the room, reminding her that they were far from alone in the Sunshine police station, she asked hopefully, "Anything new from Kentucky?"

"Actually," Hotch drawled, picking up a sheet of paper resting next to his left hand, "Yeah. Our first break, I hope," he said, handing it over to her as he grabbed for his coffee, grateful for the liquid caffeine.

Dropping her eyes to the fax in her hand, Emily's eyes widened as her fingers tightened on the sheet. "Oh my God," she murmured, her eyes quickly scanning the information, "Is this..."

"It's exactly what you think it is," Aaron nodded solemnly. "The FBI's crime lab in Nashville has already verified the age of the paper. That's a letter from our unsub, written over twenty years ago."

"H-how?" Emily asked blankly, raising shocked eyes to Hotch's. "How is this even possible?" she whispered, staring down at the facsimile she held in her hand, the harsh words jumping off the page.

"Evidently this is what happens when we release a determined JJ and a relentless Rossi on our alleged killer's family. We get all kinds of helpful data," Hotch said with a grim smile, shaking his head at the thoughts of that improbable couple.

"Would you mind starting from the beginning? Please?" Emily requested, pursing her lips as she frowned at her clandestine lover.

Nodding, Hotch sighed as he leaned back in his chair, wrapping his hands around his mug. "Rossi and JJ paid a visit to the remaining members of Mitchell Hinds' family earlier today. Apparently, the son," Hotch said, leaning over to consult his notes, "Carson, has been keeping a family secret. The night JJ was found and Hinds was killed, Mitchell received that letter," he said, nodding to the sheet Emily held.

"It's a death threat toward his kids, Hotch," Emily said softly, dropping the paper to the table as she pondered that very thought.

"Which explains Mitchell's cooperation with the unsub. Rossi is theorizing that the suicide note from Hinds was coerced. I've got Reid going over both pieces of evidence now, analyzing the language and handwriting."

"Why would the son hold onto evidence that would have cleared his father's name?" Emily asked, frowning down at the letter, her mind trying to join these new pieces with the other details of the case.

"Fear is a powerful motivator, Emily. That coupled with the fact that his father's last words were to protect the family...," Hotch shrugged, letting her form her own conclusions. "Read it closer. The unsub clearly states that he'd retaliate if those words ever saw the light of day." Blowing out a long, tired breath, Hotch rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve some of the tension in his neck. "This coupled with the memories JJ had while talking to the family..."

"Wait!" Emily said, stalling him by holding up one slim hand as she caught that last sentence. "What memories?"

"While they were visiting the Hinds', evidently there was a wall portrait of Mitchell that jogged JJ's memory. She didn't recall much, but she did recall seeing another man that night kneeling beside her sister's body. She said he was horrified. She remembered him begging the unsub to let her go. Said he offered anything if he wouldn't kill her."

"God," Emily gasped, grimacing as she asked tentatively, almost afraid to hear the answer, "How is she?"

"I haven't talked to her," Hotch said quietly, cocking his head to the side, "But, Rossi said she was pretty shaken." Seeing the worried crease in Emily's forehead, he reached for her hand again, lacing their fingers together. "She's got Dave, Em. He's not going to let anything happen to her. Physically or otherwise."

"Aaron," Emily objected softly, squeezing his hand, "he can't protect her from what her mind is sheltering her from."

"But, he can catch her when she falls. And he will, Em. I know him. He will," Hotch quietly insisted.

"I hope you're right," she murmured, dropping her eyes back to the paper she still clutched. "What's happening down there now?" she asked as she felt him rest their joined hands on her thigh.

"The last I heard, Gideon and Anne were still visiting the victim's families. And JJ was putting up a fight regarding revisiting the cabin where she was held prisoner."

"I can only imagine how that's going over," Emily murmured, cringing at the thought of her friend walking back into the place that had been her own personal hell.

"It needs to happen," Hotch said firmly, taking JJ's side, knowing that the young agent would determinedly push for whatever was necessary to solve the case.

"Hotch!" Emily gasped, jerking her head up to meet his gaze with flashing eyes. "Don't you think she's been through enough for one day?" she asked angrily, jerking her hand away from his as she threw her shoulders back stiffly.

"I didn't say I liked it, Emily," Hotch defended himself, shaking his head.. "But we need whatever she can tell us, and if revisiting the crime scene helps aid that mission..."

"The end does NOT always justify the means, Aaron," Emily replied determinedly, leaning forward. "You push her too far too fast and she could shut down. That failsafe switch in her mind will kick into gear and close her off to us. Have you read her medical file from all those years ago? It's happened before."

"And I agree we should take every precaution we can to prevent that," Hotch nodded steadily, recognizing the validity of her argument, but pushing forward. "But, in the end, it needs to happen. Although, I don't think Dave appreciated my opinion," Hotch admitted drily, meeting her dark eyes with a wry grin.

"Resistant, was he?" Emily smirked, imagining Dave's colorful reply as she felt the atmosphere around them relax for a moment.

"He was resistant before I suggested it. He was livid after I did," Hotch replied ruefully. "I don't think the things he told me I could do were in any way anatomically possible," Hotch added, shaking his head as his long-time teammate's words echoed in his mind. "And reminding him that he worked for me only added fuel to the fire."

"Would you be acting any different if I was the one in JJ's position?" Emily asked softly, smoothing her hand against her trousers as she waited for his answer.

"No. Which is why I didn't order his ass off the case," Hotch replied succinctly. "But, Em, I can't afford for Dave to lose his objectivity on this case."

"Hotch," Emily said truthfully, meeting his dark gaze, "none of us is objective when it comes to this case. Just like none of us were objective about The Reaper," she reminded him. "Cut him some slack. He's in love with her."

"I'm aware, Emily," Hotch replied evenly, rising from his chair as he set his mug down again. "And I'm prepared to give Dave a good measure of rope. Let's just hope he doesn't hang himself or me with it," he added with a long-suffering sigh.


	102. Chapter 101

******_Author's Note: Good eve, all! A quick thank you to everyone that continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. Please, let us continue to hear from each of you. As always, we enjoy hearing your thoughts and feelings on our stories - even when you don't particularly agree with the plotline. In other news, I will soon be starting a discussion forum called, "Idle Chit Chat on Author's Corner", where, hopefully, we can come together and learn more about each other and the challenges each of us face in writing. Subjects could include, finding a beta, dealing with writer's block, etc. And I'm also hoping to do one to one focus threads with authors on all ships and all pairings where we learn about their stories and the challenges they face. I think this could be a wonderful place where unique people could come together and enjoy themselves. And I really want to gauge the level of interest out there. Please let me know what you think of this idea! I really want to hear from you. Thanks again!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and One**

**Sunshine, Pennsylvania**

Rubbing a hand over his jaw as he pushed open the door to the small paneled room, Jethro Gibbs immediately zoned in on the ink-black head bouncing from side to side at the desk in the middle of the room. The faint tinny sound of that noise she referred to as music was obvious even from across the room.

Smiling in spite of his tiredness, he eased up behind her, dropping his hands on her thin shoulders as he reached out to pull one earphone away as he murmured into her ear, "That racket's gonna burst your eardrums, Abbs."

Jumping at the moment she felt his hands hit her skin, Abby Scuito twirled in her seat immediately, smacking at his arms. "Gibbs! You could have given me a heart attack! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?"

"None," he replied succinctly, raising an eyebrow as he added, drily, "You always seem to know I'm coming before I arrive. Your radar off or something today?"

Flopping back against the cheap chair, Abby yanked out her earbuds as she tapped on her laptop, silencing the clanging sounds coming from the small headphones. Glaring at him, she muttered, "My radar's permanently jammed. I can't get Molly's face out of my mind. I've decided that I really, really, REALLY don't like your hometown anymore, Gibbs. People I have met aren't supposed to die. It's in my very own personal rule book, page forty-three, section G."

"I think the rule book has been thrown at the window, Abbs," Gibbs replied, softening his tone for a moment eased closer beside her. "So tell me you have something for me in all of that evidence from the scenes."

Shaking her head as she turned back toward her computer, her long twin ponytails flying behind her, Abby muttered, "This guy is good, Gibbs. I mean, scary good. Like Michael Myers good."

"Gonna need more than that, Abs," Gibbs grunted, bracing his arms on either side of where she stood facing the machine, bracketing her petite body with his. "We already knew this guy was proficient at what he did. He's had over twenty-five years to perfect his craft. I need an Achilles heel."

"And I'm trying to find one, Gibbs," Abby said desperately, turning sideways to stare at his profile. "Honest, I am," she said, raising one hand in a solemn oath.

Pressing a kiss to the back of her head, Gibbs rested his chin against her soft hair. "I know, Abs. Just keep digging."

"I have, Gibbs. I am," Abs replied impatiently, gesturing toward the evidence bags strewn around the room that Dr. Beaumont had graciously allocated her. Once he'd been cleared as a suspect, of course. As it happened, the physician had had a soft spot for Molly, contrary to the young waitress's opinion of him. Now that another murder had touched his life, he was as grimly determined as the rest of them to find her killer and had offered whatever assistance he could provide readily and without complaint. Surprisingly, he and Abby had meshed amazingly well and the young Goth had taken over a small corner of his practice. "I've been over every piece of forensic evidence, Gibbs. Twice! There's nothing here. Not a hair. Not a fiber. No prints on Molly's vehicle besides those we expected...hers, her mom's, her kids. Nothing underneath her nails. Nothing on her body."

"And the other vehicle?" Gibbs asked evenly, smoothing his hands up Abby's tense arms, frowning at the coolness of her skin.

"Even crazier, Gibbs. The unsub was actually in that car. There should have been something. A hair...something. But, nada! Zilch! It's like he was wearing a hazmat suit. The only prints were from the people he stole the car from."

Sighing heavily, Gibbs cupped Abby's arms and gently tugged her back against him. "You will find something, Abs. It's okay."

"It's not! JJ's in danger. Molly is dead. And I've coming up blank. I don't shoot blanks, darn it!" Abby declared defiantly, holding herself stiffly as she stared darkly at the uncooperative screen in front of her.

"Abby," Gibbs ordered softly, his warm breath fanning her temple, "take a breath for me."

Drawing in a shuddery breath, Abby slowly relaxed against the man behind her, dropping her head back against his shoulder as his arms slipped around her waist, his hands spanning her tummy. Briefly allowing herself the small comfort of his strong embrace, Abby quickly straightened, forcing her mind back to the case rather than the feel of his body nestled against hers. "There was something hinky in Molly's blood work though. And when I checked it out, I found consistencies in all the victim's blood work."

"Start talking, Abs," Gibbs nodded slowly, turning the dark haired woman to face him, her bright eyes drawing him in.

"It's the drugs in Molly's system, Gibbs," Abby's throaty voice explained as she nodded urgently. "They're ones commonly used in animals...by veterinarians. I mean," she said quickly, bouncing on her toes, "medical doctors use them, too...but they're more commonly used as animal tranquilizers."

"Abbs, Bob Haskins has been the vet in this town since I was a kid," Gibbs said, shaking his graying head as he tightened his lips. "He's not our unsub."

"No, I'm not saying he is," Abby shook her head, popping her hand against his chest. "I AM saying that whoever this guy is, he's smart. He knows how to calibrate those doses for human consumption. But not only doctors can do that. Vets...vet techs...nurses...EMTs..they can, too. Or, I guess, so can anybody capable of following an Internet recipe," she grimaced, her lips shifting sideways as she imagined the weirdoes on the world wide web.

Nodding as he comprehended her information, Gibbs replied, "I'll talk to Bob and see if anyone has requested those particular drugs lately and for what reason. Can you do one of those computer search thingies you do and..."

"Already workin' it, Gibbs," Abby nodded with a smile, winking at him. "Garcia is working that witch hunt now. She's looking in a hundred mile radius of Sunshine. It's not much...but I guess it's a place to start."

"Good work, Abbs," Gibbs said softly, touching her cheek gently, resting his fingers against her skin. "In case I haven't said it, I really appreciate this. I know you hate being in the field."

Shrugging uncomfortably as she scuffed her oversized boots against the linoleum floor, Abby asked as she dropped her eyes, "What was I going to say? No? When have I ever said no to you, Gibbs?"

"Never," Gibbs said with a rueful smile. Brushing a soft kiss against her pale cheek, he murmured, "Keep up the good work, Abs. There might be a reward in it for you yet."

"Just catch the bad guy, Gibbs," Abby replied with a weak smile as he moved toward the door. "That's the only reward any of us need."


	103. Chapter 102

******_Author's Note: Good eve, all! A quick thank you to everyone that continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. Please, let us continue to hear from each of you. As always, we enjoy hearing your thoughts and feelings on our stories - even when you don't particularly agree with the plotline. In other news, I will soon be starting a discussion forum called, "Idle Chit Chat on Author's Corner", where, hopefully, we can come together and learn more about each other and the challenges each of us face in writing. Subjects could include, finding a beta, dealing with writer's block, etc. And I'm also hoping to do one to one focus threads with authors on all ships and all pairings where we learn about their stories and the challenges they face. I think this could be a wonderful place where unique people could come together and enjoy themselves. And I really want to gauge the level of interest out there. Please let me know what you think of this idea! I really want to hear from you. Thanks again!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Two**

**Pembroke, Kentucky**

In the past twenty five years, ever since she had been rescued from the clutches of the man who had ruthlessly murdered her sister, Jennifer Jareau, nee McClellan, never expected to return to the scene of the crime. And yet, here she was, staring out the dusty window of the Bureau-issued SUV at that very location. All because she had demanded this very visit, demanded to see the place where she herself had almost lost her life. Demanded to stand inside the walls of the dwelling that had been her sister's death house.

She blinked for a moment as her eyes blurred slightly, the dilapidated structure suddenly listing to the side. Her father's words rang out in her mind then, the older Jareau's voice easily coming to her memory, his phone call from just an hour ago still fresh. She had tried to assure him that she was making the right decision, that this venture was an absolute necessity for the case. But no matter how much she promised her father that she would take every precaution, his words remained the same. "Ain't no reason for you to go traipsin' around that deathtrap, Sprite. " While her persistence might not have actually worn him down, he had finally relented after making her promise to listen to everything Dave told her to do, whether she wanted to or not. And just like she had promised Dave earlier, she made the same promise to her father, knowing that, in their own ways, each of those men loved her.

Jerking herself back to the present as she realized the vehicle engine was suddenly silent, JJ tugged her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she turned to face the man sitting behind the steering wheel. Seeing the obvious look of worry in his dark eyes, she smiled tautly as she murmured, "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

Grabbing her hand before she could reach for the door latch, Dave shook his head as he said, firmly, "Not so quick, Jen. We need to lay down some ground rules first. First of which is, the moment you feel the least bit uncomfortable, we're out of here."

"That's not going to do us any good, Dave," JJ immediately objected, turning to look over her shoulder at the man sitting stiffly in the back seat of the vehicle, drawing him into the discussion. "Tell him, Gideon. Tell him that it will be necessary for me to stick around if we hope for any breakthroughs that the cabin might bring."

Clearing his throat as he looked between Dave and JJ, Gideon shifted on the leather seat. "I think you're walking a fine line right now, JJ. Yes, it's important to try to recall the events from your past. But NOT at the expense of your emotional health."

"Damn it," JJ groaned, leaning her head back against the leather seat. "I wish Anne were here. She'd take my side," JJ muttered, glancing toward the implacable man beside her.

"It was more important for her to go thank the local LEOs, JJ. We might need their assistance again before this is over and we want to leave things on a positive note with them," Dave reminded her, reaching across the console to rest his hand on top of hers.

Yeah, Gideon added silently, and it was one more opportunity the police offer had for avoiding him. Shaking his head as he reminded himself to focus, he looked at JJ, not failing to recognize the rigid look on her face. "Dave's right, JJ. On BOTH counts. Anne was needed back at the station AND if you begin to feel overwhelmed, you need to pull back. Pushing yourself beyond your comfort level is one thing...forcing a situation is another thing entirely," Gideon warned seriously, shaking his head as he watched the young woman glare back at him.

"Can we please just do this?" JJ asked impatiently, reaching for her door handle, jerking fruitlessly at the locked catch.

"Not," Dave said, stalling her movement with his firm hand, "until you agree to listen to us," he continued, pulling her around to face him.

"Fine," JJ bit out, jerking her hand out of his grip as she tightened her other hand on the door handle. "But I'd really like to just get this over with, Dave. Drawing it out isn't helping me or my psyche."

"Okay, Jen," Dave agreed softly, seeing the sheer will reflected in her eyes. "We do it your way unless it becomes dangerous."

"Thank you," she replied gratefully, listening as Dave released the door latches, then jerking the handle with a decisive hand.

Moments later she stood stock still in front of the still warm SUV, staring at the ramshackle structure in front of her, flanked on either side by two of the most protective males she'd ever met. And still, she felt terrified. Merely standing in front of this wooden structure caused her stomach to clench, the acid to climb in her throat. Her mind seemed to fade for a moment, carrying her back to those moments when pain and fear had ruled her young life.

"Jen?" Dave said softly, touching her arm, his worry increasing dramatically as he watched her eyes seem to glaze over.

Jerking as she felt a hand touching her, JJ yelped, smacking out at him as she drew in a deep breath. "Don't touch me!"

"Jen," Dave said slowly, letting his fingers linger against hers as he stepped in front of her, drawing her eyes to his as he said calmly, "It's me, honey. It's Dave. I'm right here in front of you."

"I'm sorry," JJ whispered as her vision cleared, letting out a ragged breath as she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his. "It's just..." she faltered, swallowing hard as she stared back at the small structure, blinking as she tried to catch her breath.

"Honey, it's fine," Dave assured her quickly, pressing a kiss to her cool temple as he drew her into his arms, burying his hand in her hair.

"JJ," Gideon said calmly from her other side as she pulled away from Dave. "Let's start here. Is there anything outside the cabin that you remember?"

Biting her lip as she tightened her hand in Dave's, JJ looked around at the woods surrounding them. "N-no," she whispered, shaking her head. "I think Lacy and I must have still been unconscious when he got us here. The first thing I remember is waking up groggy in that hole."

"Do you think that was outside?" Gideon asked, glancing around at their surroundings. "Do you remember being transported from the hole into the house?"

"We were drugged, Gid," JJ murmured, looking around, the heavy pine trees seeming more foreboding than any forest she had even seen. "But I don't think so."

"That means there was access inside the cabin," Gid murmured to Dave, making a mental note of that particular fact.

"We all know that's where most of my memories are going to be found," JJ said softly, eyeing the wooden steps to the door of the portal to hell. "And we know what I have to do to get to them."

"There's no guarantee this is going to work, JJ," Gideon reminded her as he caught the look of indecision in her eyes. "I know I've been the most ardent supporter of this plan, but you DON'T have to do this. We can find another way," he offered, hating that pale, haunted look blanketing her face. And, hell, if he hated it, he knew Dave abhorred it with an ungodly virulence.

"No," JJ said sorrowfully, closing her eyes for a moment. "We all know we can't take that chance. I have to go in there," she said, nodding toward the thin closed door on the sagging front porch.

"You don't have to do a damned thing you aren't ready for," Dave denied quickly, squeezing her chilled hand in his. "Gideon's right. We can find a way to catch this bastard that doesn't involve lowering you back into hell."

"Dave, please," JJ whispered, looking up at him with eyes filled with tears, leaning her shoulder against his. "Don't make it worse, okay?"

"Fuck," Dave muttered, the urge to crash his fist into something surging through him. Clenching his jaw, he nodded jerkily as he growled, "Your way, Jen...I just don't want you hurt."

"I'm already hurting. If I can remember something though...it's worth it," JJ whispered, shivering as a gust of wind flowed over them, whistling in the nearby trees. "Just stay close, okay?" she begged, her fingers tightening around his as she tried to draw in some of his strength.

"I'm right beside you, babe," Dave promised heavily, moving with her as she took a tentative step toward the cabin.


	104. Chapter 103

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Three**

**Pembroke, Kentucky**

Stopping underneath the tree that overhung the ramshackle porch, JJ stared at the wooden door, the hinges hanging to the side as the planks listed off the frame. Her last memories of that very sight had been a flash of knotted wood as she had been rushed out, carried in the arms of the very man who stood beside her right now.

The wind whipped around the side of the cabin then, ruffling her hair as she took another step toward the porch, putting one foot in front of the other until she reached the door, the floorboards creaking beneath their joined weights. Knowing that she had to force herself in, she took another deep breath as she closed her eyes, pushing the falling door open.

The hinges squeaked under the unexpected burden, much louder than she had expected. Feeling herself jump at the noise, she wasn't surprised to feel Dave's hand press against her lower back, holding her in place.

"I'm okay," she murmured even as she leaned back into his touch, taking advantage of that moment to borrow from his strength again.

"I'm right here, Jen," Dave muttered, focused on her well being as well as checking out the cabin that they had just entered. The structure was older, far more weathered from exposure to the elements that was a given, but it seemed as if nothing had changed. Damn, it seemed like the last twenty-five years had just faded away, his memories assaulting his mind with those horrible images of a psychopath's handiwork. And once again, he couldn't help but wish that he had personally torched this deathtrap all those many years ago.

Letting her eyes walk around the dilapidated one-room shed, she shook her head as she said, more to herself than to the two men accompanying her, "I thought it was bigger."

"What's that, JJ?" Gideon asked, stepping up beside her as he examined her face closely, searching for any signs of repressed memories that might be making their way back to the surface.

"This room...I thought it was bigger. It seemed bigger then," JJ replied vacantly, her eyes widening as she looked around the empty room, shadows hiding in every corner. "Maybe it was because I was so little."

Nodding, Gideon carefully studied JJ's face. "What else, JJ? Walk me through what you can remember."

Dropping Dave's hand, JJ slowly turned toward the far wall, her footfalls heavy against the planked floor. "Over there," she said, nodding toward the corner as she balled her fists at her sides. "I think he had me laying on something over there. I remember being able to see out the window...wishing it hadn't been dark out," she said faintly, coughing slightly as she drew in a breath of dust and stale air. "A-and...and L-lacy," she whispered raggedly, "she was on the floor. Just inside the door. I called her name when he s-strapped me down. It was cold and hard," JJ shuddered, remembering the icy feel beneath her already chilled skin, chill bumps rising up on her pale skin.

"He had her on a metal gurney," Dave said softly to Gideon, his voice as low as possible to keep her from overhearing him.

Nodding once, Gideon kept his eyes trained on JJ as she wandered around the small space, stopping every few seconds, her movements stiff and jerky. "You're doing good, JJ. What about before...when you were still being kept with the other kids? Do you remember anything he said? Anything they said?"

Standing stock still in the middle of the small space, JJ forced herself to relax, to reach back into her mind. "There was a girl," she whispered, her eyes tightly closed, the lights flashing behind her eyelids as she tried to remember those horrible moments. "Once, before he came with the shots, there was a girl...A-amy...A-allie..." JJ murmured, her mind reaching for the distant recollection. "She kept insisting with a lisp that he wouldn't h-hurt us. That he was nice."

Furrowing his brows as he moved within a few steps of her, Dave asked slowly, "Why, honey? Why did she think that?"

Biting her lip, JJ frowned as she lowered her head, almost as if she was staring through the floor, her eyes still shut. "She'd seen him before," JJ replied, her voice almost childlike as the memory drifted over her, those little girl voices filling her mind.

"Where, Jen?" Dave asked slowly, patiently, raking her face for any signs of trauma that would tell him that she was in danger.

"At school," JJ replied, slowly opening her eyes, nodding once. "She said he brought puppies to show and tell."

Exchanging a meaningful look with Jason, Dave nodded toward her as he smiled gently. "That's good, honey. Anything else?"

"No, he came with the shots then," JJ whispered, blinking rapidly as the memory receded, leaving her with a memory of overwhelming darkness. Shaking herself out of the reverie, she frowned as she stared down at the floor. "But, I'm pretty sure he kept us in here, Dave. I don't have any memories of being outside until you carried me out." Stomping lightly around the room, JJ listened for a hollow echo from the floorboards. It had to be here somewhere, didn't it?

Pausing abruptly as her light stomp echoed through the cabin, JJ lifted her head to look at Dave sharply. "It's here, Dave," she said, pointing downward as she examined the wooden floor with beady eyes. "Look how the plank is worn on one edge...like it was lifted up and down!" she said excitedly, her skills as an agent outweighing her fears for that moment.

Reaching down to lift the rough wood out of the way, she felt her hand quickly covered by Gideon's, pushing her back toward Dave with uncharacteristic urgency.

"JJ, no," Gideon growled as he stepped in front of her, reflexively pulling his gun as he stared down at the rotting floor, tracking signs that he realized, belatedly, that he should have noticed when they first entered the cabin.


	105. Chapter 104

**_Author's Note: Thanks for reading, everyone. Just a note, we'll be back on Friday. Thanks!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Four**

**Pembroke, Kentucky**

"W-what?" she asked, confused as she watched Dave, too, pull his weapon, his stance changing to one she had seen him use when confronting a suspect.

"Jen, back up," Dave demanded, his voice low as he gently reached for her arm, tugging her behind him with urgency.

"What? Why?" JJ asked, struggling to see around Dave's body as both men bent to stare at the plank board flooring.

"The dust is displaced, JJ," Gideon said quietly, pointing toward the thin layer of dust blanketing the wood, a clear spot glaringly evident toward the outer edge . "This board has been recently moved."

Stumbling backward a step as she felt her heart clench, JJ whispered, almost as much as to herself as to the two men, "So, he's been here again?"

"Not necessarily," Dave soothed, looking over his shoulder with an even smile, his grip on his gun never loosening. "All we know for sure is that someone has. Move toward that corner now, honey, and stay there."

"Who else would know about that hole?" JJ whispered as she pressed her back against the heavy wood, shaking her head as her blood turned to ice and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.

Carefully inserting his pocket knife between the hewn slats, Gideon met Rossi's eyes, accepting a small micro flashlight from his hand. "I'll go down. You stay with her."

Carefully pulling the wood up with a faint squeak, Gideon shined his flashlight below. "It's not much of a drop," he muttered quietly to Dave, gauging the area with a practiced eye.

Aiming his gun inside the crawl space as he moved toward the outer edge, Dave nodded. "Just go."

Nodding, Gideon slid into the hole with an easy fall, ducking down immediately. Swinging the flashlight around, he scanned the small area with his gun and shivered. JJ was right about one thing; it was cold as fuck down there, and the dampness indicated it was obviously close to an underground spring. Tightening his jaw at the thought of innocent children held prisoner in the confined cramped space, he forced himself to move, looking around again. If their unsub had returned to the scene of his original crime, he'd had a definitive reason for doing so. They just had to find it.

But he hadn't needed to look very far. On the second sweep of his flashlight, he found the unsub's calling card. His taunt. And he felt the bile rise in his throat as he took a step closer.

Seven identical glass jars on the floor, leaning against the earthen wall in the far corner...and only one of them empty...and all neatly labeled with the name of the victim. And the contents of each...perfectly preserved.

"Jason!" Rossi called from above, his voice muffled slightly by the earthen enclosure. "Say something!"

Swallowing hard at the sinister findings, Gideon forced himself to move back to the hole in the floor, hoisting himself up with a firm hand from Dave.

"Get JJ out of here. Now," Gideon said, his voice pitched low as he dusted off his jeans, his eyes narrowing as he glanced back down toward the gaping hole. "I'm gonna call in a forensics team."

"Why?" JJ asked sharply from behind them, her ears catching their whispers easily in the silent room. "What's down there?" she asked, her voice laced with panic as she moved toward them, the boards creaking beneath her feet.

"Our unsub left a calling card, JJ," Gideon replied slowly, guarding his words as he tried to determine exactly how much to tell her without frightening her any more than she already was.

Feeling the trembling begin somewhere deep inside her, JJ tried to hold herself stiffly, to brace herself for what was coming. "What was it?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she created a physical shield.

"It's not important right now, JJ," Gideon shook his head firmly, motioning toward the door. "Just leave, JJ, and let Dave take you back to the hotel."

JJ knew that if Jason Gideon was attempting to soften the truth, then it was bad all the way around. One thing she had always admired about the elder profiler was his blunt personality, his inability to sugarcoat difficult situations. And right now, she appreciated his willingness to bend that rule, to attempt to spare her from whatever horror was lurking below them. But somewhere inside her, she knew she needed to know.

"JJ," Dave murmured, slipping his gun back into his shoulder holster as he moved toward her. "Don't make me pull rank here," he pled quietly, staring down into her obviously frightened eyes, wanting nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and remove her forcibly. But somehow, he knew that she would never allow him to succeed with that plan, no matter how noble his motives might be.

"Either tell me what you found or I can go down and find out for myself," she threatened, taking a step toward the hole in the floor, her shoulders stiffening as she set her eyes toward the goal.

Stepping in front of her, Dave shook his head as he growled, "Absolutely not."

"Then tell me," she insisted, staring over his shoulder at Gideon, dropping her fists to her hips as she all but yelled, "Wondering is worse than knowing, Jason!"

"Dave?" Gideon asked, raising his eyebrow in question as he waited for his former teammate to make the ultimate decision.

Sighing heavily as he reached for JJ's hand, tucking her fingers in his, Dave nodded. "Just tell her."

"JJ," Gideon said slowly as he moved a step in her direction, his hands held out at his side. "He left preservation jars for us to find," he explained gently.

"Preser...no," she whispered, shaking her head frantically as she tried to shake that picture from her mind. Surely she had just misheard him, hadn't she? "You don't mean..."

"JJ, please," Dave said, wrapping his arm around her quaking shoulders as he pulled her closer. "Let's go outside," he urged, trying to turn her stiff body toward him, toward the sunlight seeping through the open door.

"B-but...he kept Lacy's...Oh God," JJ babbled blankly, her face paling as the full implications of Gideon's words echoed in her mind. And suddenly, the clamoring in her mind was too much to bear, overwhelming any other rational thoughts. Wordlessly, she crumpled in Dave's arms, the weight to heavy to bear anymore.


	106. Chapter 105

**_Author's Note: Several notes today. Thanks to everyone still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. We truly appreciate hearing from each one of you. Our new discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" is now up and running. Last I looked, it's the last forum listed on page two. Please go take a look. Ideally, it will have an update per day. Please let us know of any threads you'd like to discuss. "Getting To Know You" interviews will hopefully begin on Monday. This will probably be our last update until Sunday night._**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Five**

**Pembroke, Kentucky**

She could hear his voice somewhere in the distance, but she couldn't seem to answer him. As hard as she tried, she couldn't make her eyes open, which was exactly what he was demanding that she do. But it was so peaceful where she was, blissfully silent and calm inside her mind just then. Why would she ever want to leave here?

But she could feel his hand pressing against her cheek, and his voice seemed to be growing more insistent with each passing moment. That was his worried voice, she told herself, her heart beginning to pound just a little louder in her ears. He was calling out her name, calling her Jennifer, in that tone that bordered on agony.

Rays of reality started to punch through the haze surrounding her thoughts, and she felt herself jerk as she tried to blink through the sudden memories that flooded through her. Something had gone horribly wrong, hadn't it? Swallowing hard as she turned toward his voice, she clutched violently for him, desperate for him to hold her again.

"Jen!" Dave demanded as he tapped lightly at her entirely too pale cheeks, easing into the back seat of the SUV beside her still body. From the moment she had collapsed in his arms, he had barely held his fear in check, his entire focus on reviving her and keeping her safe from the demons that were determined to haunt her. Feeling her fingers dig into his arm, he pressed his palm against her cheek again as he ordered, his voice taut, "Open your eyes, Jennifer. Now, baby!"

Blinking as she stared up into his wavy face, her vision clearing with each passing second, JJ rolled toward him, clutching at him as she whispered, "It was real? It wasn't a dream?"

"Hey," Dave replied, releasing a relieved breath as those familiar blue eyes blinked up at him. Catching her against him as she rolled toward him, Dave slid a hand into her hair, cupping her head against his chest, his heart still hammering in fear. "Babe, right now, I just want you to catch your breath and not think about anything."

"I can guarantee you that there's zero chance of that happening, Dave," JJ retorted hoarsely, her words muffled by his shirt as she squeezed her eyes closed, breathing in the deep woodsy scent that was uniquely him.

"Humor me," he snorted, shifting against the back seat as he turned them, her body tucked into his side. "You just scared the shit out of me again. I'm beginning to take that personally, Babe."

"Me, too," both of them heard a familiar voice growl behind them.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Dave asked as he pulled JJ closer, tangling his fingers in her hair, "Did you get everything set up?"

Nodding, Gideon looked around Dave at JJ, her face still buried against him. "I did. She okay?" he asked, nodding toward JJ, his eyes filled with concern for the young woman that had been carried away from that cabin for the second time in her life.

"I'm fine," JJ muttered, finally forcing herself to push away from Dave's chest, despite an overwhelming desire to stay exactly where she was. Swallowing as she blinked, trying to regain her equilibrium, she whispered, "Everything just..."

"Caught up with you for a moment?" Gideon asked, raising an eyebrow as he braced one hand against the open door of the SUV. "I'd say that's understandable."

"You called it in?" JJ asked hoarsely, unable to pull away from Dave completely, her hand still firmly in his as she felt his arm slide firmly around her shoulder.

"I did," Gideon nodded, shielding his eyes from the sunshine filtering through the treetops. "Forensics should be out here in about twenty minutes to do a sweep of the cabin. But I doubt we find anything besides the obvious. He staged this," Gideon replied, nodding toward the cabin in the background. "He knew we'd come back here looking for answers."

"How long do you think...how long since..." JJ faltered, swallowing hard as she tried to force the words out, her tongue tying again. Get it together, Jareau, she ordered herself sternly, pinching her leg with tight fingers. You're a trained agent this time, not a six year old child.

"Couple of weeks, give or take," Gideon shrugged. "I'd say he probably returned the week before we arrived in Pennsylvania, but that's just an educated guess right now. He was working toward this. And he's gonna be watching for your response, JJ."

Nodding as she absorbed the warning in Gideon's voice, JJ bit out, turning to stare at both men, "He's not going to get one."

"Good," Gideon nodded, watching as Dave slid a comforting hand down her bowed back. "It will just feed his fantasy," he said softly. "He's getting off on this."

"Great," JJ muttered unhappily, a shiver sliding down her back as she imagined the horrors still stalking her. Jerking her head up with a sudden thought, she looked between the two men with widened eyes. "Under no circumstances is this information to be released to my father. None! It would serve absolutely no purpose for him to know about any of this other than to hurt him even more." Tugging Dave's arm, she ordered as she stared into his dark eyes, "You make sure the rest of the team knows it, too, Dave. Please!"

"I promise, babe," Dave assured her quickly, pulling her closer to press a soft kiss to her damp forehead. "I'll take care of it personally when I call and put Garcia on the search for that kindergarten teacher of Allie or Amy...whatever that kid's name is."

"I'd forgotten about that," JJ murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she heard that little girl's voice again in her mind. "Do you think you can get anywhere with that information?"

"Every piece of information we get, JJ, is one more than we had. We'll chase the lead and see if it pans out. But whether it does or doesn't, you're doing everything you can," Gideon informed her solemnly, scuffing his sneakered foot against the pine-needle covered ground.

"It doesn't seem like enough," JJ whispered, staring past Jason at the ramshackle house of horrors, the door gaping open into the darkness that was more than just a lack of light. "Not nearly enough."

"It's plenty," Dave growled, tightening his fingers around JJ's cool hand, rubbing his thumb over her skin. "And for now, it's enough. You and I are going back to the hotel."

"But maybe I should try again," JJ suggested quickly, looking toward Jason for help, her eyes begging the older man to intervene, to use whatever skills she had while she was here.

"No," Gideon denied flatly, ignoring that look in her eyes. "It's enough, JJ. Especially for now. I'm going to wait here for Anne and the forensics team. I'll catch a ride back with them. Take her back to the hotel, Dave."

"Shouldn't I have a say in this?" JJ asked, growing annoyed at the heavy handed men surrounding her, but somehow knowing that any argument she would make would be soundly trumped.

"No," Dave and Jason declared simultaneously, their chorus loud in the small interior of the vehicle.

"But..."

"Enough, Jennifer," Dave replied, shaking his head as he cupped her cheek. "It isn't often that Jason and I agree on anything. That, alone, ought to say a hell of a lot."

"The man's got a point," Gideon agreed with a grim smile.

"Fine," JJ sighed, recognizing a losing battle when she met one. "But, please, if they find anything else..."

"I'll call, JJ," Gideon nodded, stepping back as Dave stepped out of the back seat, pulling JJ after him. And moments later, watching the black SUV slowly recede into the horizon, Gideon turned to look back at the decaying wooden cabin. Once this nightmare ended, he was tempted to personally set a match to the devil's playground. The cruelty of his nature was reflected in his actions. He'd left those souvenirs to torture JJ, the empty jar a clear message.

Jennifer Jareau was living on borrowed time.


	107. Chapter 106

******_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing our stories. We adore hearing from you. A few housekeeping notes for today...two interviews with two of our amazing fellow authors have been posted today at the discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Foreverpadfoot and Dustytiger graciously agreed to be my first participants. Please check out their interviews at the forum and take a look at some of their wonderful work. If anyone has a favorite author that they'd like to see interviewed or learn more about, shoot me a PM and I'll see if they're amenable. As always, I really love hearing from you guys! It's an honor to be allowed to write for you. Thanks, again._**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Six**

**Sunshine, Pennsylvania**

Rubbing a hand over his bald head as he sunk down deeper into the empty chair in the corner of their technical genius' new lair, Derek Morgan wondered if their once well-ordered world would ever return to at least a simple modicum of normal. But after the phone call he had just received from his unit chief, relaying more information that none of them wanted to hear, he seriously doubted the he'd ever see that dream realized. Not in his lifetime.

His introspection was interrupted by the quiet but pained voice of the woman curled up next to him, his arm draped loosely over her shoulder. "But I don't understand!" Penelope Garcia moaned, shaking her multi-colored head against his shoulder. "How did this psycho know that JJ would even be going back to the cabin? How?"

Letting out a deep sigh, Morgan explained softly, "He may not have been expecting JJ, but he knew that we couldn't ignore the cabin once we started investigating again. He knew we'd go back to Kentucky, re-interview people, searching for more clues. He knew someone would find those damned jars. He was one step ahead of us, like he has been for the entire case, Baby Girl."

Jerking up as she frowned mightily, Garcia pushed up out of the chair as she stomped toward her computer, her eyes flashing. "Well, I say it's time to stop him in his tracks and trip him up at his own game. There's got to be something that we can do to help down there!"

"We're waiting on Gideon and Anne to have the entire scene processed, then they'll upload all the evidence to you. And I'm sure Rossi's gonna have a few tricks up his sleeve, too," Morgan replied, looking down at his waist as he felt his phone vibrate. Nodding to himself, he muttered, "Speak of the devil."

Clicking the green button as he moved toward her makeshift desk, he called out, "It's Morgan and Garcia, Rossi. Gideon called Hotch. We got the new details, man," Morgan said with a frown, his hand clenching by his side as he imagined the fresh horrors that the team was facing in Kentucky.

"How's my little gumdrop doing, SuperAgent Man?" Penelope asked tremulously, her eyes wide with anger and fear, the whimsical pencil in her hand twirling at the speed of light.

"Not as well as I'd hoped," Dave muttered into the phone, turning to look at JJ curled on the hotel's bed, facing away from him. Damn, she looked small and more fragile than he'd remembered seeing her. The events of this afternoon had taken their toll on the diminutive beauty, her body and mind equally exhausted, and she'd virtually collapsed as soon as he'd closed the door to their room. Quiet and withdrawn for the last hour, he'd silently worried while trying to give her the space and time she needed to process their gruesome find. But, he'd never been a particularly patient man, especially when he was scared. And with each passing moment, the urge to force her to talk to him had steadily grown.

"Do you want me to try and talk to her?" he heard Penelope ask worriedly.

Hearing the underlying concern in the other woman's voice, Dave smiled despite himself. One thing he was certain of...this team would go to the mat for any of their members in a heartbeat, unwilling to let anyone fight alone. Especially Penelope Garcia. "Maybe later, Garcia. I don't think she's up to it right now," Dave replied softly, his eyes moving back to JJ's prone body.

"Oh," Garcia frowned as she stared down at the floor of the Sunshine police office. "Okay," she murmured then. "But you make sure she knows I'm only a phone call away," the technical analyst demanded firmly. "I don't care if it's three in the morning and she just wants to count ceiling tiles! You tell her I'll count them with her!"

Chuckling quietly at the other woman's insistence, Dave nodded, "I will, Garcia. But there was actually another reason that I called. I need to put you on a scent."

"What kind of scent, Rossi?" Derek asked, bracing his fist against the metal desk as he frowned down at the cell phone, wondering what other pieces of this macabre puzzle they had yet to uncover.

"Hopefully one that'll lead us to our killer," Dave muttered, casting another look toward JJ's still form on the bed as he moved toward the far corner of the room.

"Sounds like a plan that we can get on board with," Morgan nodded approvingly. "What're we looking for?" he asked, sliding a reassuring hand across Penelope's stiffened shoulders, massaging her tight muscles gently.

"Yeah, SuperAgent, give me a mission," Penelope chirped as she leaned into Morgan's welcome touch. "I'm locked and loaded over here."

"While we were at the cabin, JJ remembered a conversation with one of the unsub's other victims. Amy...Allie...she wasn't sure. But it happened while they were held captive together. At any rate, she remembered the girl saying that she'd thought their captor was nice when he'd brought the puppies to her school. All these kids would have been in kindergarten...first grade. I'm thinking it might have been something like show and tell. Maybe we could find the teacher and get a name. You up for that?"

"Already on it," Garcia assured him, glancing at the cell phone on the desk as her fingers itched to find her keyboard. "If she's still around, I'll find her, Agent Rossi," Penelope assured him, nodding.

"I know you will, Garcia," Dave said softly, appreciative of the younger woman's unwillingness to ever give up, no matter what the circumstances. "One more thing, you two," Dave said, dropping his voice another octave. "I don't know what Hotch told you, but I need you to spread the word for me. Under no circumstances, does JJ want her father hearing about the contents we found at the cabin. We keep that information guarded, understand?"

"We hear you, Rossi. Hotch already put the word out to everybody and made it real clear there'd be hell to pay if protocol was broken," Morgan replied somberly, watching Penelope's face tighten at the mention of those grim findings.

"Good. Back him up, Morgan. Make those locals understand that we mean business," Dave growled, the idea of anything hurting JJ any more than she was already suffering suffocating him.

"I will," Morgan replied quickly, more than ready and willing to muzzle any idiot stupid enough to open his mouth to the wrong person, especially anyone who dared to hurt JJ's father. "You just take care of JJ, man. We'll handle things on this end."

"And tell JJ to call me when she's up to it," Penelope added quickly, her fingers pausing on her keyboard momentarily, her eyes swinging back to the phone.

"Will do," Dave agreed, watching as JJ seemed to shift underneath the blanket, her legs kicking slightly. "Call when either of you know something," Dave ordered, flicking the phone quickly as he moved toward her.

"We will," Morgan and Garcia affirmed in unison. Exchanging a look as they heard Dave click off, Pen whispered, "He's scared, Hot Stuff," she said, nodding at the phone, her heavily lined eyes wide as she stared up at him. "Did you hear the way his voice shook?" she asked worriedly, her lips twitching.

"He's in love with her, Baby Girl," Morgan soothed, rubbing his hand over her shoulder again. "Don't you remember how I was after you'd been shot? It's a reaction. Everything is going to be fine," he assured her, praying with every word he spoke that he was telling the truth.

As if she could read his thoughts, Penelope narrowed her eyes as she turned back to her computer, searching for any piece of information that would save her best friend. "I'm holding you to that, my Chocolate Adonis.


	108. Chapter 107

******_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone following, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We continue to appreciate your ongoing support. Please, travel over to our discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Today we've posted a great "Getting To Know" interview with the very talented hxchick, author of "An Unconventional Family". As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds._**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seven**

Hearing the swinging door to the makeshift autopsy room push open with a decided force, Dr. Donald Mallard never took his eyes off of the human remains laid out in perfect order before him as he said, "You're just in time, Jethro."

Taking a definitely needed sip from his Styrofoam coffee cup, Agent Gibbs nodded as he sidled up next to the metal table, his eyes adjusting to the overhead lights. "Tell me what you got, Duck."

"Right now, my dear boy," the doctor murmured, his eyes peering through a magnifying glass as he paid particularly close attention to the decaying face of the small body, "I'm afraid to admit that I have far more questions than I do answers. And I'm afraid this particular situation is not showing any positive signs of changing in the near future, much the pity."

"Is that what you called me over here for? To tell me that we know less than we did an hour ago?" Jethro asked, raising an eyebrow as he waited, impatiently, for an answer.

"No, I called you over because I need a second pair of eyes. I'm afraid that the ravages of time have made my vision less than it was in my youth. And seeing as how we are currently without the advanced equipment that we are accustomed to using, I'm attempting to identify this particular anomaly on my own," Ducky answered, motioned for Gibbs to move around the table.

"I'm not sure that I'm the best man for this job," Gibbs replied even as he was following the doctor's orders and sliding into place. "Abbs is going to provide more help than I could in this area."

"And I've already sent detailed digital images of this particular worry to our esteemed colleague, and she is currently attempting to match this mark for me," Ducky answered with a nod, reaching up to adjust the light in the borrowed now-autopsy room as he handed the magnifying glass to the other man. Motioning toward where the eyes would have been on the small body that had been the first victim of their psychotic hunter, he said, "I would stake my professional career on the belief that those marks were caused by a specific cutting tool that was modified by the user. The bones have been literally engraved with this particular marking. And all of the other bodies show similar signs in the area where whatever organ was removed."

Nodding as he carefully examined the area where the doctor indicated, forcefully refusing to allow his mind to stray from the task at hand, Gibbs finally handed the glass back to his friend as he said, voice neutral, "So what does this tell us? We know he had all these kids captured around the same time, so he probably used the same tool then."

"That is a very believable and justified theory, Jethro," Ducky agreed as he moved toward the small desk at the side of the room, stripping off his gloves and dropping them in the small red waste bin. "But I believe that the second part of this story will make even more sense. I've also identified those same marks on the three recent victims that were found here. He still has this tool, Jethro."

Cocking his head to the side as he stared at the doctor, Gibbs asked, "But what about our latest victim? Any signs of that tool mark on Molly Akins remains?"

"No, unfortunately not. At least not yet," Ducky answered with a deep sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed around the room, the various recently-exhumed bodies covering multiple tables. "But if Molly was a spur of the moment decision, he might not have been prepared completely for the attack."

"So what type of tool could make this mark?" Gibbs asked, glancing down again at the body beside him, the remains barely covering half of the portable gurney.

"That is what our dear Abigail is currently diligently searching for."

Nodding shortly, Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest as he said, shaking his head, "While Abbs is searching her computer thingajigs, I need you to check out a few more pieces of evidence. Unsub left a surprise for Jenny down in Kentucky that we just found out about."

"I trust this surprise was not of the welcomed variety," Ducky said, pausing in his examination of the body as he raised wise eyes to Gibbs.

"Yeah," Gibbs snorted, his jaw tightening as he remembered the terse conversation he had had with Jason Gideon earlier. "He left jars filled with what we assume are his first six victims' organs since he was a swell enough guy to label the jars for us. We'll need you to quietly verify that for us. JJ doesn't want this particular information released to anyone."

Nodding, Ducky murmured, his expressive eyes filled with concern, "I imagine not." Pursing his lips as he glanced around his makeshift lab, he sighed, "It should be easy enough to match DNA. But if you want it done quickly, I suggest that you allow me to beg help from Dr. Beaumont."

Bobbing his head once, Gibbs replied, "Just make sure he knows that this is a confidential assignment."

"I'll start immediately when the evidence arrives," Ducky nodded, reaching for a small flashlight from a portable metal table. "And if I might suggest it, our Abigail needs to do some testing on whatever preservative he chose to use. That might afford us some further answers."

"You two are the scientists," Gibbs shrugged, his face tightening. "Just make sure you keep it quiet," Gibbs replied, turning to leave as he dropped his now-empty coffee cup into the nearby trash can.

"Gibbs," Ducky called, sensing that his friend was hovering on the edge.

"Yeah," Gibbs returned without turning around, his eyes still facing away from the young victims.

"I hate to quote your own rules back to you, my boy, but perhaps now would be a fortuitous opportunity to remember Rule #10," Duck noted softly, his hands stilling for a moment.

"I became personally involved the minute I stepped back into Sunshine, Duck," Gibbs grunted, shaking his head as he took another step toward the door. "Jenny's family. The same as any member of our team."

"As true as that is, my friend, you have those rules for a reason. Remember that," Ducky reminded him softly as the door swung closed behind him, the smell of coffee still teasing Ducky's nostrils. Looking down at the body in front of him, he murmured, "Dear boy always has had trouble following his own rules."


	109. Chapter 108

_**Author's Note: Once again, thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting our stories! We know that your time is valuable, and we appreciate your willingness to read and let us know what you are thinking. We'll be taking a break over the weekend, and hope to post again on either Monday or Tuesday.**_

_**Please check out our forum "Chit Chat on Author's Corner." We'll be posting a new topic later today and would love to hear from you! You can access the forum on either the forum page or by visiting my profile page (ilovetvalot) and clicking "My Forums."**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eight**

Blinking slowly as she stared out the small oval window indented on the wall of the plane, JJ tried to relax, to let herself focus on the floating clouds rather than the dark thoughts in her mind. But ordering herself to do so was easier than actually putting that command into action, her subconscious returning automatically to the horrors that had been consuming her for hours upon hours. Well, she amended her thoughts, actually it was days upon days, years upon years. And she had a distinct feeling that no matter how hard she tried, that none of this would change. Not until the evil that was surrounding her was eradicated, one way or the other.

Feeling the edge of her leather seat dip slightly, she didn't bother turning toward the only person that would have invaded her self-imposed exile. Ever since the night before, when they had made that gruesome discovery in the abandoned cabin, she hadn't wanted to talk to or see anyone, not even Gideon or Anne. As much as she appreciated their support and their efforts to solve this case, she couldn't force herself to discuss the details, to let her mind dwell on exactly what those jars meant. Knowing that her sister, the little girl that she could still see when she closed her eyes, had been violated in such a way literally revolted her, turning her stomach in flips that she couldn't control. Her imagination was horrible enough, and reality might just push her over the precipice with more force than she could handle.

A warmth pressed into her hand just then, and she turned slowly to stare down at the black ceramic mug that had appeared as if by magic. Automatically wrapping her fingers around it, she murmured hoarsely, not looking up, "You didn't have to, you know."

David Rossi nodded, mostly to himself, as he stared at her pale profile, his lips tightening as he mentally chastised himself again for allowing her to be subjected to the demons of her past. "Yes, I did. You've not eaten this morning, JJ, and we're going to land in half an hour. Your father will know something's wrong if he sees you looking like a poor imitation of Casper the Ghost."

He watched as she merely pulled the cup to her lips, taking a slow sip of the warm tea, forcing himself to resist the urge to forcibly pour the entire contents down her throat. For the past eighteen hours, ever since he had tucked her back into the bed at the hotel, she had been barely communicative, locked inside her own world in her mind. He was skilled enough to know that every person dealt with challenges in her own way, which was the only reason he hadn't pushed harder to snap her back to the present. But no matter how much he reminded himself of that professional thought, he couldn't fail to remember the worrisome months when she was younger when she had retreated into her shell, months passing before she once again reappeared.

Her only break this time had been in the middle of the night when the nightmares had invaded again, her screams renting the air of their hotel room with a violent fear that had him reaching for his firearm before he had realized what was happening. For two hours, he had held her tightly until she had managed to once again close her eyes. But his had remained wide open, glued to her frail, fitfully –sleeping body as he wracked his brain for any clues they had missed, any hints that would allow her to escape this house of horrors.

Swallowing the hot tea, easily tasting the extra sugar that he must have added on purpose, JJ propped the mug on the armrest between them as she murmured, her eyes drawn back to the floating clouds, "Daddy doesn't know, right? Promise me that no one has told him, Dave."

"Jen, your father is unaware of what we found, but we both know that he's going to demand some answers. It's obvious that you're shaken up," Dave warned gently, wrapping his hand around hers. "And quite honestly, it'd be better if he heard something from you rather than draw his own conclusions."

"You think I should tell him about..."

"About the jars, no. Everyone, including me, understands where you're coming from. And truthfully, by keeping that information guarded, hopefully our unsub won't realize we found them. If he thinks that he's being ignored, he might step things up and start leaving us other information. And you know, just like I do, every piece of information that we obtain brings us a step closer to identifying him and stopping him in his tracks."

Slowly turning toward him again, JJ nodded, her fingers wrapping tighter around the warmth of the cup as she felt his hand surround hers. "You're right. But I'd give anything to be able to tell Daddy something positive, Dave. What about those puppies I remembered...was that able to lead us anywhere useful?"

"Babe," Dave sighed, rubbing his thumb against her still too-cold hand, "Garcia has been searching high and low for information on that classmate that recalled the dogs and her teacher. But she's hit a snag..."

"Of course she has," JJ groaned, dropping her head into her other hand, propping her elbow on the armrest. "What now?"

"That school district had a fire at the central office fifteen years ago. They lost their electronic records of everything prior to that time. Garcia and Reid are searching yearbooks to identify the teacher," Dave explained as he eased the mug from her hand, reaching across to drop it on the table across the aisle.

"Why not just ask her parents?" JJ complained, her hands dropping to fist in her lap as impatience leaked into her voice, her shoulders stiffening under the weight of this news.

"Father died of cancer a couple of years ago and the mother was killed in a car accident a few years after the kidnappings," Dave supplied, hating the disappointment hovering in her eyes, wanting to provide her with the perfect answers that would once again spark the fire that should be lighting her soul. "Look, Garcia has promised me that she'll personally move to Kentucky and go door to door with her laptop and a cattle prod...."

Unwillingly chuckling at the mental image, JJ shook her head, the smile fading again as her fingers crept toward his. "I know it's not their fault, Dave," she said softly as his strong hand enveloped hers. "I'm just frustrated."

"I know," Dave nodded solemnly as he raised the armrest between, tugging her slightly closer. "Maybe that's a sign that you should..."

"If you say, 'take a step back', I'm throwing you out of this plane without the benefit of a parachute," JJ glared at him, her blue eyes darkening with very word. "I'm a part of this, Dave. Hell, I've got the starring role in his fucked up play. I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't blame me for trying, Jen," Dave grumbled, shifting in his seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

"Care to bet me on that?" JJ raised an eyebrow, daring him to argue with her or her logic.

"Fine, but doesn't mean that I'm gonna stop," Dave amended, tightening his hand against hers again. "Besides, at some point Strauss is going to want a status update."

"So give her one," JJ shrugged, studying his profile as he leaned back against the headrest.

"She doesn't want to talk to me," Dave replied, with a silent thanks to God for that stroke of luck in his favor. "She's gonna want to hear from you."

"I don't have anything to tell her," JJ shook her head, slouching down in her seat as she leaned her shoulder against his.

"Look, babe, whether we like to admit it or not, we fucked up years ago. Erin wants to guard her bureaucratic machine. Just humor her," Dave recommended, pulling his hand away to wrap his arm around her frail shoulders as the plane dipped.

"The only reason that you're saying that is that you're looking for another opportunity to get me out of Sunshine again," JJ muttered, her eyes drifting back toward the bright white sunshine floating through small oval window.

"Yeah, well, sometimes things work in my favor," Dave replied, not denying the obvious truth of her statement, pressing a soft kiss to her hair as she leaned against his side.

"Not this time," JJ shook her head as the plane rolled again, Dave's arm tightening comfortingly around ehr. "This time, Strauss can come down off the throne if she wants something. I'm not leaving again until this bastard is dead or in custody."


	110. Chapter 109

**Author's Note: Dear Readers…thanks so much for reading and reviewing. ****As always, we don't own anything associated with Criminal Minds, but we are definitely having fun playing with the characters!**

******Our updates may be a bit slower over the next week as ilovetvalot (Tracia) is currently in the middle of moving into a new home and tonnie2001969 (Tonnie) is dealing with real life issues. ****We appreciate your patience and promise to update as soon as possible.**

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**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Nine**

"Well, well, well," a masculine voice drawled as Jennifer Jareau walked back into the Sunshine Police Department's uncharacteristically busy station house, "as I live and breathe, it's Sunshine's answer to what qualifies as news....The Girl Who Lived. Care to give us a quote, Agent McClellen...or do you prefer Agent Jareau professionally?"

Feeling Dave's hand stiffen on her lower back, JJ drew in a deep breath as she turned toward the man propped casually against the long counter than ran in front of the receptionist's desk. Pasting on the smile that she always used when facing down some of the worst reporters in the land, she merely raised one eyebrow as she took a step forward. "Slow news day, Grant? I don't seem to recall you being this interested in me the last time I came home for a visit a few months ago. You must really be desperate for headlines, huh?"

Shaking his head, the tall stocky redhead pressed his hand to his heart as he replied, his tone mock-affronted, "Jenny, Jenny, Jenny. How soon you forget. I seem to remember that you were the one not interested in me. My heart is still broken that you turned me down for the senior prom. "

"Work through the pain, Grant," JJ advised smartly as she rolled her eyes, well aware that her self-appointed protector was standing right behind her, his hand almost touching hers as he listened to every word. Smiling tightly as she glanced over her shoulder, she motioned toward the newspaper man as she said, "Dave, meet Grant Wilkins. He's the editor, reporter, and chief bottle washer of the Sunshine Daily Gazette." Turning back, she said, evenly, "Grant, this is Agent David Rossi. He's…"

"No need to introduce the Federal Bureau of Investigation's most prolific author, Jenny," Grant said, shoving out his hand toward Dave as he added, his eyes flashing behind his horn-rim glasses, "I've hit the motherlode. Two famous agents in one location. Pinch me because I think it's Christmas!" he added with a theatrical shudder.

"Oh, I'd like to do something to you, all right," Dave growled, holding his ire in check as he felt JJ step between him and the twerp that was obviously intent on ruining his well-laid plans of keeping her safe.

Dropping his extended hand, Grant shook his head balefully as he looked between the two agents. "So, it's like that. Listen, Jenny, one way or another, I'm telling this story. And with the dirt I've got, we both know it could attract national attention. And, I'm gathering from that ever so helpful Agent Prentiss, who wasn't so helpful by the way, that that's not the route you wanna take. But, I'm in business to sell papers. So, do us both a favor and give an old friend an exclusive. I'd hate to publish unsubstantiated reports, but..."

Taking a step forward, sidestepping JJ's protective arm, Dave narrowed his eyes as his fist tightened by his side. "Are you actually stupid enough to stand here and threaten a federal agent, Mr. Wilkins?" Dave asked dangerously, his eyes glinting.

"Nope," Grant shook his head, merely shaking his head as he scooped up his notepad from the counter. "It's not a warning," he said, conspicuously looking around Dave at JJ, "It's a fact. I'm running my story with or without your agent's approval. But out of courtesy, I thought I'd offer her the chance to comment."

"Grant," JJ shook her head, her lips pressing together as she felt her stomach drop at the thoughts of the case details being spread across the front page of any newspaper. "You can't do this," she whispered, looking around the station anxiously, not failing to notice the inquisitive gazes their small group was receiving from every corner.

"I can, Jenny," Grant replied unapologetically. "It's called freedom of the press. I'm covered," he said with a cocky smile toward Rossi.

Catching Dave's arm as he took a threatening step forward, JJ tightened her fingers around his arm in a vice grip. "Dave, don't!" she hissed, "We're attracting attention out here," she murmured, pulling at his arm as she smiled tightly at a couple of officers looking their way.

"Afraid we might be seen?" Grant mock whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially. "I'm fairly certain it isn't unusual for a reporter to be standing in a police station, Jenny."

"No, but it could be dangerous for YOU if the unsub is watching," JJ spat, pulling Dave's arm again as she felt his muscles tense beneath her fingertips. "You haven't learned a damn thing in all these years, have you? You're still the same pushy son of a bitch you always were! No wonder you never made it past small town news."

"Sticks and stones," Grant chided, raising one eyebrow at his old classmate as he pushed his falling glasses back into place. "Beside, Agent Jareau, your little life story here is the big break I've been waiting for my entire professional life."

"Damn it, you little maggot," Dave rumbled, jerking against the constraints JJ had placed around him, "I don't know what you think you know but..."

"I know plenty, Agent Rossi," Grant replied flatly, meeting Dave's glare levelly. "In fact, my newest intel says you all made quite a gruesome find on your field trip to Kentucky. Has your lab confirmed those organs did in fact belong to this killer's very first victims?" he asked, tilting his head in patient waiting.

"Oh my God," JJ gasped, gripping Dave's arm as she absorbed that well-timed bombshell. "How did you..."

"A good reporter never reveals his sources," Grant smiled smugly, propping his elbow on the tall counter again, "And this reporter won't start now. I'm dialed in, Jenny. You'd do well to realize it. You aren't the only one that's changed over the years."

Grabbing Grant's arm and wrenching it behind his back before the younger man could protest, Dave guided the so-called reporter toward an empty conference room, turning to order JJ, "Find Hotch. Now."

Watching JJ nod and turn to find their boss, Dave shoved Grant Wilkins inside the room, slamming the door behind them, the sound echoing. Shoving the other man against the wall, Dave hissed as he slammed his hand around the other man's windpipe, "I believe it's time that I introduce myself formally. I'm David Rossi. And I really, really hate the press."


	111. Chapter 110

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Ten**

Gulping against the strong arm pressed against his throat, Billy Martell stuttered, "I…I think I understand that now."

"Good," Dave snapped out, applying just enough weight against the man's vocal cords to drive his point home. Narrowing his eyes, he added, his voice heavy, "And understand this, too. You so much as cause a hair on that woman's head to be harmed because of something you print, you won't have to worry about your so-called journalistic integrity or freedom of the press. Do we understand each other even better now?"

But any answer the younger man might have been considering making was delayed as they both heard the door to the small room suddenly open, Aaron Hotchner's stone face appearing quickly. Raising one eyebrow as he surveyed the scene, Hotch scanned his eyes from the reporter propped haphazardly against the wall to Dave standing calmly, arms crossed over his chest. "You want to tell me what's going on here, Dave?"

Catching sight of JJ's blonde hair poking around Hotch's shoulder, Dave merely smiled calmly, much calmer than he actually felt, as he replied, "Just a small chat with our resident newspaper editor. I believe he might have misunderstood earlier how the FBI normally shares information."

"Yes, apparently I can add brutality to my already very meaty first article," Billy smirked, straightening his suit jacket as he took a step away from Rossi, tucking his notepad in his pocket. "You think that's the first time somebody has tried to physically intimidate me, Agent Rossi? Look around the town, half the population in redneck. A few bruises are worth the Pulitzer I could earn from this news article series."

"Listen, you little maggot..." Dave growled, slamming Billy back into the wall behind him again, his anger rising to the surface faster than his common sense, his main goal to protect JJ at all costs.

"Rossi!" Hotch demanded as he moved forward, his voice brooking no argument, "Take a step back now."

"Dave, please!" JJ begged as she watched Dave's shoulders stiffen, trying to step around Hotch's imposing presence. "Do what he says."

Moving between the two men as Dave finally released his hold on the younger man, Hotch turned toward the reporter and extended a hand. "Unit Chief Agent Hotchner," Hotch formally introduced himself and attempting to draw the man's attention away from the other agents. "What can we help you with, Mr. Martell? I believe you were present for Agent Prentiss' briefing this morning. We have no further information to release at this time."

Snorting, Billy shook his head as he met the chief agent's dark eyes. "You call what happened this morning a briefing? I could have gotten more information by standing in the center of Sunshine's diner this morning, Agent Hotchner."

"We released information that was safe for the public at this time, Mr. Martell," Hotch replied steadily, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to stare at the younger man.

"Well, I have a little bit more info that the public might want to know than was included in your bureaufied press release," Martell retorted, patting his pocket where his notepad now resided. "And I intend to run with it."

"That would be a mistake, Mr. Martell. Publishing a story with information that we haven't released to the press..."

"Look, my sources say that woman," Martell remarked bluntly, nodding to JJ as he took a step forward, "is the only known survivor of the serial killer currently terrorizing the area. Hell, I've already got your tagline, Jenny. You're "the girl who lived". I'm picturing a quarter page photograph of Jenny, there, with bold black block letters underneath. Hell, for a story this size, we might even spring for color. Then I figure I'd accompany that little revelation about our local celebrity's terrible past brush with death with articles on how both your Bureau and the locals in your old hometown botched the first investigation and murdered an innocent man. And, then, of course, there's my article regarding your recent little field trip...and all the goodies you found along the way."

"When the hell did you turn into such a monster, Billy?" JJ whispered, horrified at the other man's callous words. In her years as an agent, she had come across public and police alike who seemed to be …thrilled…at the aspects of ghastly crimes, but she had never expected to be exposed to that very characteristic in someone who had known her, known her family, for all these years.

"I'm not the monster here, Agent Jareau. I'm a reporter on a story," Billy replied unapologetically, refusing to back down from his stance or from his beliefs. "And I believe that people deserve to know the whole story...about everything."

"You're treading in dangerous water here, Mr. Martell," Hotch warned evenly, his eyes boring into the foolish reporter as he heard Dave's angry snort behind him. "I have to tell you that you're interfering with a federal investigation if you go forward with your plan to publish those stories. And, that's a punishable offense, legally speaking."

Smiling grimly, Billy shook his head as he tightened his shoulders. "Not hardly, Agent Hotchner. I'm well aware of my rights as a representative of the press. And I'm not crossing any lines here. I've got a reliable source, and everything I have is substantiated. You don't have a leg, legal or otherwise to stand on."

"You won't have legs at all if you keep running your mouth," Rossi replied dangerously, his fists clenching at his side as he forced himself to stand still, well aware that JJ was standing just mere feet away.

Cocking his head at those comments, Billy eyed Hotch curiously. "Anybody ever told you that some of your agents need a leash?" he said, jerking his head toward Rossi in a deliberate attempt to once again agitate the older agent.

"Oh, this is Agent Rossi being leashed. You'll be the first to know when he becomes untethered, Mr. Martell," Hotch replied evenly, shaking his head. "You'll know it when he rips you apart."

"I guess I can understand your side of it," Billy shrugged, looking at Dave with a mock-smile. "I'd be pissed, too, if I'd managed to aid and abet in the death of an innocent man and totally missed the fact that some psycho has been continuing to kill right underneath my nose for twenty-five years now. That's gonna be hell on your publicist to explain when your next book comes out, isn't it? Hey!" he said, snapping his fingers in sudden brilliance, "that'd make a great article, too, wouldn't it?"

"I think we've all had enough of your veiled threats, Mr. Martell," Hotch replied harshly, his hand fisting at his side as he prepared to physically intervene if necessary.

"Really? You're assuming that I'm making threats. I'm really not. I fully plan to publish my articles. Unless, you have something to offer that might change my mind," Billy drawled, once again crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm a reasonable man, after all."

"Cut the bullshit," Dave snapped as he glanced at a pale JJ standing behind Hotch, her cheeks steadily growing chalkier with each passing moment. "Tell us what the fuck you want."


	112. Chapter 111

******_Author's Note: Many, many thanks to all the wonderful readers taking time to review, favorite and alert our stories. We are truly grateful to each of you. Please travel over to our new forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and check out our latest interview with the lovely, talented JenRar. We also have a new thread started called, "Grins and Grimaces of the Fanfiction Site". Hope you all find something there that you enjoy. And as ever, if any of you have any requests for threads or author interviews, please let us know. We love hearing from you. Thanks so much! See you Tuesday!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Eleven**

"Now, Agent Rossi," the newspaper editor said with a mocking shake of his head, his expression schooled into bored disbelief, "I would think that someone with your exposure to the media would have learned by now that deliberately antagonizing a reporter is not exactly going to help your cause."

"In case you haven't figured it out already, you bastard, I ain't well known for my personal relationship skills," Rossi retorted, his fists clenching as he took a step toward JJ, intending on standing between her and the newest danger.

"That's obvious," Billy grinned, turning his eyes to Hotch then. Changing the tone of his voice, he offered as he smiled knowingly, "I could be persuaded to consider other information for my articles if you have any you'd like to share."

Shaking his dark head, Hotch met the younger man's eyes as he said, evenly but bordering on inhospitable, "You have the information that we're releasing for public use. If you choose to…."

"I've heard the party line all afternoon, Agent," Billy interrupted, switching his eyes back toward the other couple in the room. Addressing the woman that had been his former schoolmate, he said, "But what I haven't heard so far is the personal side of things. I think my readers would be very interested in insights into the life of the woman that has been affected most by this. Whattya say, Jenny? Wanna go on record and give your side of the story about why you kept something so secret all these years?"

"Her reasons are her own damn business," Dave growled lethally, his eyes coldly encompassing the man in front of them as he moved closer toward JJ. "Not yours. Not today or any other day."

"Fine," Billy shrugged as he tucked his notepad into his pocket. "I can leave readers to draw their own conclusions. No skin off my ass."

"Billy, please," JJ moaned, pressing a hand to her pounding temples as she tried to stop what appeared to be a runaway train. "You have to idea what this will do to my father."

"He doesn't care what this will do to your father," Dave snorted, his hands fisting again at his sides, his temper barely holding underneath the lid he no longer wanted to keep on it. "Do you?"

"On the contrary, I think I'm being pretty generous here. I'll hold my current stories in favor of a personal interview. I think that's very reasonable of me considering my other route would sell a hell of a lot more papers. One way or another, this isn't gonna slow me down. This thing has too much momentum behind it to stop the avalanche headed your way."

"It's gonna be pretty hard to write when I break both your hands and knock your teeth down your throat. That might slow you down a bit, you little bastard," Dave suggested dangerously, taking a step toward the newest threat to JJ's peace of mind.

Seeing the older man rapidly approaching the end of his patience, Hotch stepped between his friend and the reporter. "Dave," he ordered, his voice brooking no argument, "Go take a walk."

"If you think I'm just gonna leave him in here with Jen then..."

"It wasn't a request, Rossi," Hotch stated flatly, his eyes boring into the older man's dark gaze. "It was a direct order. Go take a walk," he demanded, nodding toward the door. "I'll deal with this."

"I can deal with it fairly simply," Dave retorted, his jaw clenching rhythmically in time with his fists. "You go take the walk and give me five uninterrupted minutes with this little shit."

"Dave, please," JJ whispered softly, touching his arm, needing to stop another round of violence if the chance still existed. "Let Hotch try," she pled softly, meeting his stormy eyes with her own. Watching as they softened, JJ sighed as he cupped her jaw.

"Jen..."

"Please?" she repeated, her voice sounding hoarse, as if she had been screaming for hours.

"Fine," Dave relented, sliding his fingers against her skin softly, "but, I'll be right outside the precinct. You need me, you come get me," he demanded, refusing to leave until he received that simple assurance.

"I will," JJ readily agreed, nodding against his hand, mentally willing herself to let him go, knowing that Hotch could defuse the situation quicker without Dave's threatening presence.

Pressing a possessive kiss to her lips, he turned back to glare at a smirking Billy. "You don't know how lucky you just got, kid. But I guarantee, you hurt Jennifer and it'll be the last person you ever get the chance to hurt."

Watching as Dave walked out the door, slamming it in his wake, JJ turned to Billy. Squaring her shoulders, she forced herself to confront her former classmate that had dared to invade her current world. "Are you a complete idiot? You do realize that man can snap you like a twig and buy and sell you with what he spends on ammunition in a year, don't you?"

"I'll risk it, Jenny," Billy stated evenly, not moving a muscle as he met her eyes. "This story is too good to ignore. It's gonna attract national attention regardless of whether I'm the first to go public or not. The information is out there for anybody that cares to look. And this is all happening in my own backyard. You're in publicity for Christ sake. Do you really expect me to ignore everything that I know?" he asked earnestly, shaking his head at what he perceived to be her naiveté.

"We expect you to allow us to do our job, unimpeded by amateur investigations, Mr. Wilkins," Hotch answered for JJ, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Amateur?" Billy snorted, rolling his eyes. "Tell me what the hell that I didn't get exactly right, Agent Hotchner."

"I'm much more interested in how you got your information, Mr. Wilkins. I want to know your source," Hotch stated evenly.

"No," Billy replied succinctly. "I won't be releasing that information. Not to you or anyone else."

Narrowing his eyes on the red headed man, Hotch's eye twitched in agitation. "Then you and I, Mr. Wilkins, have a very big problem."

The sudden screech of the door hinges invaded the tiny space just then, interrupting whatever response the editor was formulating.

"I'm afraid whatever problems you think you have are going to have to wait, Agent Hotchner," Anne Fortner said as she opened the office door and stepped inside, her eyes glancing around the room to settle on the FBI Unit Chief's.

"Anne?" JJ asked warily, her eyes widening on her obviously agitated friend as she felt her stomach drop anxiously. "What's going on?"

"We've got another body," Anne replied tightly, shaking her head as she saw the unasked questions in JJ's eyes. "The Weasel needs to leave," she said, nodding toward Billy.

"Nice to see you again, too, Anne," Billy sneered, adding quickly, "Where's the body?"

"Nice try, Billy," Anne smirked, taking a step in his direction as she assumed her best cop pose. "But, this is an ongoing police investigation and a private meeting," she said, grabbing his arm and strong arming him out the door around a waiting Jason Gideon, "And you are cordially disinvited," she said, shoving the grumbling man out into the bustling hallway.

"Jenny," the editor called around Anne, his voice carrying over the din around him, "my offer is good for twenty-four hours. Then, I go with the stories that I got!"

"Need some help?" Dave smiled grimly as Anne continued pushing Wilkins toward the exit, grabbing the younger man's collar and swinging him around with far more strength than the younger man had expected.

"This is police brutality," Billy yelped as he went sailing unceremoniously toward the plate glass.

"Tell somebody that gives two shits," Dave shrugged, watching as the other man's back met the door with a thud. "We're a little busy catching a murderer," he growled with a tone of finality, slamming the door to the meeting room.


	113. Chapter 112

******_Author's Note: A quick thanks to everyone still following along with our stories. We genuinely appreciate each one of you. Please, travel on over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and read our latest interview with the multi-talented bonesbird. As ever, we don't own Criminal Minds._**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twelve**

Turning around to face the obvious tense room, Dave ignored Hotch's censorious glare as he moved immediately toward JJ. The tension was evident on her too-pale face, and he mentally cursed everyone involved, himself included, for allowing her to be exposed to all of this once again. Her eyes seemed to be filled with even more pain than earlier, if that was possible, and her shoulders were dropping lower and lower with each passing second. Standing directly in front of her, Dave murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, "Jennifer? Look at me, babe."

Shaking her head, JJ drew in a deep breath as she raised her eyes from the scuffed floor to his flashing eyes. "Not now, Dave. We've got to deal with whatever information Anne has."

"It can wait until I know you're okay," Dave countered immediately, staring into her dull blue eyes, gauging her reactions as best he could. Unnaturally pale and sweating, it was entirely too easy to see that the woman he loved was rapidly approaching the end of her rope. And there was no way in hell that he was gonna stand passively by while she attempted to hang herself with it.

"I'm fine, Dave," she replied, her voice sounding flat even to her own ears. Smiling tightly, she added, cocking her head to the side, "Later. We'll talk about this later."

Clearing his voice as he watched his two agents hold their own private tete-a-tete, Hotch said firmly, "JJ, if you want to sit this out…."

"No," JJ said firmly, pulling her shoulders back and straightening, "that isn't now or is it ever going to be an option for me, Hotch. Let it go, Dave. Now, please." She absolutely refused to fall apart and most certainly not standing in a room surrounded by her colleagues. Her friends, she mentally amended, well aware of the concerned gazes all focused in her direction.

Clearing her throat, Anne shuffled on her feet as she said softly, "I hate to say this, Jenny, but you might actually want to give the notion some consideration."

There was only one reason for that hesitant thread she heard running through Anne's voice. "Who was it?" JJ asked slowly, the question seeming to stick in her throat, meeting the other woman's eyes and trying to read the answer there.

"Deputy Branden's kid sister, Rebecca," Anne informed her softly, wincing as she heard her own voice deliver that news. "It doesn't appear that she suffered, JJ. He took her kidney," she added quickly as she watched JJ sag against the wall.

"Do we have cause of death?" Dave asked as he reached an arm out for JJ, stiffening as he realized the killer had added another victim to his growing death toll. And, perhaps, drew one step closer to the woman he was determined to protect.

"Asphyxiation, it appears. It looks as if he took the kidney post-mortem," Gibbs said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room as he pushed the door open, sliding into the already crowded area. "Duck will let us know when he completes the autopsy."

"That girl couldn't have been any more than fifteen years old," JJ replied, her voice shaking, her memory recalling the bright happy child she'd visited many times whenever she had made her trips home to Sunshine. Rebecca's parents owned the general store, and the young girl had always been a precocious child, alternately pulling laughter and groans from her parent's customers. And God, Deputy Branden had only been a few years behind her in school...and now his sister was dead. Because of her. Because she hadn't died all those years ago.

"Fourteen, last week," Anne murmured, her shoulders dropping as she realized that she'd soon have to break this shattering news to her colleague. So far, only a few of the local force had been brought into the scene, but she knew that things never stayed secret for long in a small town.

"Where was the body found? Do we have a clean crime scene?" Hotch asked, firing his questions in rapid succession as the rest of the team joined them in the small conference room, pushing their way into the crowded area.

Looking between JJ and her Unit Chief, Anne glanced toward Gideon in askance, seeing his slight nod. "Her body was staged at a dump site," Anne said quietly, carefully keeping her eyes averted from JJ's.

Noticing her friend's obvious discomfort, JJ took a half step forward, feeling Dave's hand tighten around her arm. "Anne, what aren't you saying?"

"JJ, I..." Anne trailed off, dropping her eyes to the floor as she tried to draw in a deep breath.

Stepping in, Jason met Dave's eyes as he said, "JJ, you need to sit down." Nodding to Dave as he pulled the chair out, he watched as Rossi guided her unresisting body down into it.

"What's going on?" JJ asked, looking around the room at the sea of concerned faces. "Your acting as if something else is going on," she said with a direct look at Anne. Her words were met with an echoing silence and she watched Anne lift a quick hand to her face, brushing a tear off her cheek briskly. "Anne, for God's sake, tell me what's going on," she demanded, her voice rising as her thoughts moved into the realm of the unconscionable.

"JJ, the unsub chose a unique dump site," Gideon said evenly as Dave's brows drew together and he reached for JJ's hand, enfolding it securely in his grip.

"Where?" JJ bit out, barely able to breathe as her mind went on a wild goose chase for answers. There were so many places in this small town that held deep meaning for her. Which place had this monster chosen in which to mar those wonderful memories?

"Your father's old farm...in front of the pond. The pond where your dad and Mr. Gibbs were going to catfish in this afternoon. JJ, your father discovered Rebecca's remains," Gideon explained gently, his eyes watching her reactions closely.

Surging to her feet, JJ looked around the room wildly. Her father and old man Branden had been friends for as long as she could remember. When they both had ran working farms, they had borrowed one another's equipment and helped harvest crops together. They shared breakfast at the cafe at least three times a week...they attended the same church. "Where is he? Where's Daddy?" she asked, her panic rising as her cheeks began to flush, her heart beat beginning to pound in her ears.

"Dad's still with him, Jenny," Gibbs said from the doorway. "They're over at Doc Beaumont's clinic."

"Why, Jethro? Why are they at the clinic?" JJ yelled suddenly, her hysteria growing as she tried to read Jethro Gibbs' neutral facial expression, his countenance revealing nothing.


	114. Chapter 113

**Author's Note: Once again, we want to thank everyone for continuing to read, review, PM, and favorite this story. We are very appreciative of your support and love to hear from you! Please take a moment to check out our new author interview with Thn0715 posted on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner." As always, we don't own Criminal Minds! **

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen**

"Dad's still with him, Jenny," Agent Gibbs said from the doorway, his voice calm as he surveyed the small room. "They're over at Doc Beaumont's clinic."

"Why, Jethro? Why are they at the clinic?" JJ yelled suddenly, her hysteria growing as she tried to read Jethro Gibbs' neutral facial expression, his countenance revealing nothing. But in her heart of hearts, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that something was horribly wrong. "Daddy doesn't just run off the doctor, Jethro! You know that!"

Taking a step forward, Gibbs held out his hand as he said, softly but evenly, "Jenny, your dad's gonna be fine. And when you talk to him and my father, they'll both tell you the same thing. But I decided that it was best for both of them if Doc Beaumont give them a good going over. They're not as accustomed to seeing dead bodies as we are. Right now, he's more interested in seeing you."

"You promise? You promise he's not…."

Feeling JJ clutch frantically for his hand as her voice suddenly cracked, Dave wrapped his stronger fingers around her cold hand as he said, his voice deliberately positive as he saw the unspoken warning in the NCIS's agent's eyes, "Gibbs is right, honey. I'm sure your father is getting a good checkup with the doctor right now and keeping the entire office on their toes until you get there."

"Hell, we all know how cantankerous both our fathers are, Jenny," Gibbs said casually, favoring her with one of his rare smiles as he met her worried gaze.

Swallowing hard as she stared from Gibbs to Dave, attempting to read any unspoken communication between them, JJ demanded hoarsely, "I want to see him. Take me to see my dad right now."

Seeing the normally serene, calm woman rapidly approaching what could only be classified as a maddening frenzy of worry and desperation, Dave stood quickly, pulling her into his arms, wrapping her against him as she began to shake. Meeting Jason's eyes over JJ's glistening head, he mouthed, "How bad?" and winced as the other man shook his head gravely. Schooling his face into the picture of optimism, Dave pulled the fragile woman in front of him back slightly to stare into her wet eyes. "You need to calm down first. If your father sees you in this condition, it's only going to make a complicated situation worse. You know that," he said slowly, each word uttered striking a chord with her.

"O-okay," JJ hiccupped, wiping her odious tears off her face. He was right. She needed to exert some control over herself. This wasn't about her right now. Her father had to be her focus. Striving to find that thin line of sanity to teeter on, JJ nodded again, grateful for the strong arms wrapped around her. "You're right," she whispered, pulling her frame upright as she forced herself to focus. She could do this. She would handle this. There was no one else. Her mother and sister were dead and she was what remained of her father's family. And she'd be damned if she'd fall apart on the one man she'd always been able to rely on now. Straightening her shoulders, she demanded, "Just take me to him, all right? I need to see him with my own eyes. I'll be better once I can see him for myself."

Hearing the stark vulnerability hovering underneath her strong words, Dave protective instincts surged. This woman had spent almost her entire lifetime desperately trying to not become attached in an effort to guard herself against this kind of pain...this kind of raw fear. And now, once again, this monster had put her into an untenable position. Sinking his hand into his pocket, Dave pulled out his keys as he nodded. "Okay, babe. Let's go see your dad," he said, turning to guide her out of the room toward the door, only to step into the busy hallway and run headlong into Billy Martell.

"So," Billy drawled, his bright eyes even shinier as he latched onto his favorite topic once again, "Any comment on the Sunshine Scorcher's latest victim? Rebecca Branden, I believe? Tell me, Agent Jareau, do you feel any sense of responsibility now that your attempted killer is submersed in our community?"

Gasping as she grasped the snide reporter's meeting, JJ stumbled for a second until she felt Dave's hand wrap tighter around her waist. "Wh-what?" she balked, angry tears rising in her eyes as she comprehended the reporter's snide question. "You think I deliberately brought him here?"

"That's enough," Dave thundered as he eased away from JJ, his fist making contact with the irritating press man's face before anyone could stop him.

Falling backward against the wall, Billy automatically reached to cradle his offended jaw as his other hand flailed for some sort of support. Glaring at Rossi, Billy then spoke coldly to JJ, shifting his jaw from side to side, "Twenty-four hours and counting, Jenny. Or I run with what I've got. And, if you think your elderly father has heart problems now, remember what I have just might break him."

Hustling JJ toward the door as she shook her head in horror, Dave yelled back at Jason Gideon, knowing their team was already surrounding the erstwhile reporter, "Lock that bastard up, Jason. I'll deal with him when I get back."

"You might not get that chance," Morgan growled angrily, slamming Martell into the wall again when he moved to follow JJ.

Pushing JJ out the glass doors, Dave turned briefly to look at Hotch. "If that little prick so much as steps into that clinic with Jennifer, I'm going to rip his fucking head off, Aaron." Casting a withering look at Billy, he growled, "You've been warned."

Watching as Dave took JJ's arm and guided her toward the SUV parked in front of the station, Hotch glanced toward the reporter dispassionately. "I hope you realize that you've made a very powerful enemy," he said with a nod toward Dave's retreating back. "A wise man would know when to walk away, grateful to still have his life."

"In case you missed it, the press doesn't easily cower in the corner, Agent Hotchner. I'd think a man of your professional experience would be aware of that," Billy muttered, straightening his tie as he pushed away from the wall Morgan had slammed him against.

"Oh, I'm aware, Mr. Martell. And I almost pity you. You see, for all your blathering, David Rossi can buy and sell you. You might make things uncomfortable for Agent Jareau, it's true," Hotch nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at his stubborn opponent. "But," Hotch said, pausing dramatically, "Rossi will destroy you in retaliation. And trust me when I tell you that mistake will haunt you for years to come."

_**

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This may be our last post for the weekend. Between moving, kids out of school, yard sales, hospitals, and so much more, real life is demanding precedence. We appreciate your patience, and hope to have new chapters up on all our stories in just a few days.


	115. Chapter 114

******_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone that has been patiently awaiting updates. Real life has been a crazy, frenetic blur of activity on both my and my co-author's part. Hopefully, it will regulate in the next few weeks. Until then, postings on everything a couple of times a week is the best we can hope for. Again thank you to everyone that is still reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting these stories. It means a lot. Please stop by our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and get to know the multi-talented Kavi Leighanna, one of our core Hotch/Prentiss writers on the site. And, as always, Tonnie and I own nothing._**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen**

Jerking open the passenger door before Dave had even managed to put the SUV into park, JJ dropped her feet to the paved parking lot, her eyes glued to the clear glass door that would lead her into the offices of Sunshine's only physician. And the current location of her father.

Feeling Dave's hand wrap around her arm just as she reached out to grab the metal door handle, JJ looked over her shoulder as she snapped, "Dave! What in the world are you doing? Daddy's waiting on me and…"

"And I know that you want him to see you composed and in control rather than barreling in like a wayward tornado, babe," Dave said evenly, sliding his hand over her wrist to grasp her fingers, pulling her back a step. Staring down into her flashing but worried eyes, he added, convincingly, "You need to do this for both of you, JJ. There's no reason to add to whatever has already happened."

Narrowing her eyes at his suddenly cryptic words, JJ asked sharply, "Wait. Everyone said he was fine. That this was a precaution. " Trying to pull out of Dave's grasp as she frantically reached for the door again, she demanded as she glared over her shoulder, "What's happened that no one's told me about?"

His hand strongly wrapped around hers in spite of her best efforts, Dave let her tug him inside the small reception area as he said, calmly, "Babe, I know as much as you do. I just want you to be prepared for whatever you hear."

Ignoring his words, JJ turned immediately toward the older, grey-haired nurse sitting behind the reception counter as she insisted, trying to peer around the small desk, "Where is Locke Jareau? I was told that he had been brought here, and I need to see him immediately."

"Ma'am, Mr. Jareau is having his echocardiogram right now. It'll be a few minutes," the kind eyed nurse told the couple calmly. "Are you family?"

"I'm his daughter," JJ explained hurriedly, not recognizing this woman, even though she knew almost everyone in this small town. "And why is he having an echo done? Did he have a heart attack?" JJ asked quickly, her eyes widening in fear, those same worries from years prior invading her thoughts once again. "Did he?" she asked again when the nurse wasn't immediately forthcoming.

"Ms. Jareau, the doctor will have to answer those questions for you and he's with your dad at the moment," the nurse replied calmly as she rose from her seat and gestured toward the small collection of chairs in the corner of the postage-stamp sized waiting room. "Just have a seat and try to get your breath, dear."

"But..."

"JJ," Dave said softly, wrapping his hands around her stiff shoulders and pulling her back against him before she could lunge at the older woman, "Harassing the nurse isn't going to get you the answers you want. And she's on your father's side, remember? Let's just go grab a seat." Gazing at the nurse, he said, his words not really a question, "You'll get us the moment you know something."

"I will," the nurse nodded solemnly, looking from Dave to JJ, compassion in her eyes. "Just as soon as we can, sir."

"This isn't happening," JJ whispered, talking to herself more than Dave as she let him pull her away. Shaking her head almost violently as she felt his strong hand settle heavily on her shoulder, gently pushing her down, she repeated, "This just isn't happening."

"Honey, we don't know what's happening yet," Dave soothed, sitting beside her on the narrow vinyl loveseat and wrapping an arm around her securely, pulling her against him.

"Don't we?" JJ laughed bitterly, wiping the tears on her cheeks angrily as she perched stiffly on the edge of the couch, her eyes glued toward the closed door that was standing between her and her father. "This unsub isn't going to stop until he robs me of everything. Including my father."

"That isn't true," Dave assured her calmly, rubbing his hand slowly up her stiff spine.

"You don't know that!" JJ said sharply, digging her fingers deeply into his leg as she sought for some stability, some normalcy in a suddenly spinning world. "You don't know what's going on in there any more than I do."

"I know he's getting the best possible care he can right now. I know that both you and he are safe. And I know that we are going to catch this bastard," Dave said slowly, refusing to allow her to focus on the negative in spite of the current crisis.

Shaking her head in disbelief, JJ bit her lip as she slowly whispered, giving voice to a thought that had been growing stronger and stronger over the past twenty-four hours, "I want you to use me as bait. If he wants me, put me in his line of sight, David. Maybe we can get a quick resolution before he hurts anybody else."

"Or maybe that could get you dead," Dave growled, his arm tightening around her suddenly, his hand dropping heavily on her hip as he tugged her closer. "Hell, no," he stated flatly, staring at her tense profile. "We'll figure out a way to get him, but I guarantee you that's not gonna be the method we use," he ground out, the idea of deliberately using her to flush out the unsub causing his gut to clench painfully. Was she insane? After biding his time and carefully building the relationship between them, did she honestly think he'd ever allow her to be used like that? Especially when he knew exactly what this monster was capable of?

"Dave," JJ groaned as she turned to face him, ready to beg him to understand if necessary. But anything she might have said was suddenly forgotten as the brown door to the body of the clinic swung open and the elderly Mr. Gibbs' silver head appeared.

"Mr. Gibbs!" JJ exclaimed as she recognized the older man's face, surging to her feet as Dave wrapped a restraining hand around her fragile wrist. "Where's Daddy?"

Holding up a hand as he walked toward his best friend's daughter, Mr. Gibbs shook his head in the same manner he had used when she was much younger and working in his store every weekend. "He's okay, Jenny," he said evenly as he reached her side.

"If was okay, he wouldn't be here, Mr. Gibbs," JJ remarked, looking toward the door again, hoping against hope that her own father would just walk out at any moment and put her worries at ease. "Please don't patronize me. Just tell me what's really happening."

Looking askance at Rossi and seeing his slight nod, the elderly Gibbs tugged JJ back toward the waiting area. Patting her hand gently as he eased her back down onto the seat, he began, "Honey, I guess what I should say is that he's going to be okay."

"Going to be," JJ repeated suspiciously, swinging her eyes toward the older man. "Mr. Gibbs, Daddy taught me to respect my elders, but if you don't..."

"Jenny, he had a mild heart attack," Mr. Gibbs stated softly as the young woman lost what little color she had left.

Swaying in her seat, the world suddenly shifting once again without warning, JJ felt her own heart stutter as Dave cursed. "How bad?" she forced herself to ask, her hand gripping Rossi's tightly as she stared desperately at Jackson Gibbs.

"Bad 'nough that Doc wants to admit him for a couple of nights over in Martinburg," Gibbs replied truthfully, mentioning the closest hospital located about a half hour away. "Just for observation, Jenny. Doc'll be out in a few minutes to talk to you."

"I want to see him," JJ demanded suddenly, trying to stand to her feet only to feel Dave's much stronger hand once again hold her into place.

"You will. The doc'll be on out in a jiffy. They're just finishin' up, honey," Jackson Gibbs said softly, his words accompanying the door opening behind him once more.


	116. Chapter 115

**_Author's Note: Thanks to everyone still following our stories. We absolutely adore hearing from you. And please, travel over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner", for two more interviews with the talented authors, LoveforPenandDerek and egoofy34!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen**

His jaw tense as he stepped into the waiting room of his small clinic, Dr. Beaumont immediately moved toward JJ as he said, rapidly, "Agent Jareau, your father presented with excessive sternal pain that exacerbated on exertion. I've administered various exams and tests, and the echocardiogram exhibited what I suspected. One wall inside the left upper cardiac chamber is displaying grade four hyposthenic symptoms. While I cannot yet determine what level of gravitas he's yet reached, I'm cautiously hopeful that…

His eyes narrowing as he watched JJ's rapidly paling cheeks as she tried to comprehend the intricacies of the words the doctor was rapidly spewing, Dave stepped forward as he said, gruffly, "Doc, speak English. I'm sure you know what you're saying, but the rest of us don't speak medicalese and I don't have time to get Reid or Ducky over here to interpret."

Rubbing a hand over his jaw, the doctor glared tiredly in Dave's direction as he nodded stiffly toward JJ. "I apologize, Agent Jareau. Your father's tests show a slight weakness in one of the areas of his heart closest to his aorta. The EKG shows that he has experienced a mild heart attack. He's responding to the moderate dose of drugs I've given him, but I'm concerned about the coming hours and any complications that could manifest."

Swallowing hard as she nodded slowly at that information, her mind fogging with worry and agitation, JJ asked hoarsely, one arm crossing over her chest to clutch at her other forearm, "You think he will get worse? Is that what you're saying?"

"No, it's not, Agent Jareau. I'm erring on the side of caution. Think of it as aftershocks to an earthquake. Sometimes there're a few symptoms that show up later after a heart attack, even a potentially mild one. That's why Mr. Jareau needs to be admitted to a hospital for observation and additional tests that I can't perform here."

"H-heart attack," JJ whispered, shaken to her core as she recognized just how strongly her father was being influenced by the events surrounding this unsub, his health now being affected to a degree that she could no longer protect him.

"A mild heart attack," Dr. Beaumont stressed, his face softening slightly in deference to JJ's precarious state.

"Listen to the Doc, Jenny," Mr. Gibbs urged her, resting a soft hand on her shoulder as he added, his deep voice filled with concern, "Your pop's doing okay, little one."

Glancing from JJ's ashen face to the doctor, Dave asked quickly as he wrapped his arm tighter around JJ's narrow waist, "Where exactly did this rate on the Richter scale of heart attacks, Doc?"

"About a two or three," Dr. Beaumont supplied quickly, understanding the unspoken warning in the older agent's voice, well aware of the relationship between the two Jareaus. "A little more than a tremor but enough to grab our attention."

Biting her lip as she let out a deep breath, forcing herself to comprehend the doctor's words, JJ nodded. "Can I see him?"

"Of course," Dr. Beaumont nodded as he stepped to the side, motioning toward the door he had just entered through. "I did sedate him slightly though so, if he seems a little groggy, don't be alarmed. It's just the effects of the medication," he informed her. "The important thing right now for your father is that you remain calm and positive, Agent Jareau. If you're upset, he's naturally going to respond."

"I'll be good," JJ promised softly, looking toward the heavy door behind the doctor longingly.

Satisfied with her response, the white-coat clad man nodded. "You can both go on back. First door on your left. We've got about fifteen minutes before transport arrives. I'll ride with your dad and monitor his condition and you and Agent Rossi can follow behind in your own vehicle."

Nodding at the doctor as he brushed past him, Dave reached for JJ's arm when she would have lurched through the narrow passageway toward her father's room. "Jen," he said softly, stalling her forward progress, "Hold on a sec."

Glancing over her shoulder as she tried to jerk from his grasp, JJ hissed angrily, "Are you insane? Did you not just hear a thing the doctor said? My father just had a heart attack, Rossi!"

"Yes, I did. Every word. Which is why you need to take a breath and compose yourself before you walk inside that room," he said, nodding toward the closed door on their left, well aware that they were mere feet from her ailing father. "Seeing you wild-eyed and in a frenzy isn't going to do much to help your dad's condition, is it?"

Frowning, JJ winced as she realized, belatedly, that he was right. She couldn't upset her father, especially with what he'd endured already today. And, while she wasn't entirely sure how she looked right now, she felt as close to out of control as she'd ever been. And, as much as she hated it, Rossi was completely correct; she had to regain her balance before she entered his room. Leaning against the solid wall, she bit her lip, reminding herself to breath as her eyes drifted close. Opening them a few moments later, she stared into Dave's impassive face. "Okay," she said slowly, straightening her shoulders, "I'm ready."

Nodding once, Dave guided her across the hall, pushing open the door for her.

Eyes adjusting to the much dimmer room, JJ tried not to gasp as she looked at her normally hale and hearty father attached to various wires and monitors, resting against a small gurney. She'd seen him like this before, but it wasn't ever a sight she'd become accustomed to.

"Sprite?" Locke Jareau rasped, turning his head toward the entryway as he heard the door open. "I told them not to bother you 'bout this. It ain't nothin'."

"Not anything, huh?" JJ whispered, her voice cracking as she moved toward the bed. Taking in her father's pale washed-out complexion, the deep furrows in his forehead as he obviously tried to hid his pain, she shook her head. "You know, I'm not ready to be an orphan yet, daddy," she admonished him gently, forcing her voice to remain calmer than she actually felt. "You had another heart attack."

"Sawbones wasn't sure about that yet," her dad corrected her quickly, trying to sit up in spite of his daughter's hand against his shoulder. "And it ain't nothin' for you to worry about, honey. That nurse'll be along directly to unhook all these contraptions from my chest and we'll be on our way," Locke replied, reaching for his daughter's hand. "I need to go see Becky's daddy. God knows, I'm familiar enough with what he's goin' through."

"I somehow doubt that you'll be paying anybody any visits tonight, daddy," JJ snorted, squeezing his hand as she eased down on the edge of the gurney, needing to be as close to her father as possible, "since they're admitting you to the hospital for observation."

"The hell they are," Locke growled, pulling himself up in the bed as he reached for the leads on his chest, his fingers fumbling against the sticky pads. "I'm fine."

Covering her father's fingers, JJ shook her head as she eased his hand away from the medical equipment. "You are not fine. You had another heart attack."

"Do I need to remind you which of us in this room is the parent here, Sprite?" Locke asked sarcastically, swatting his daughter's hands away as he tried to peel off another lead, his eyes narrowing as he frowned at the stubborn wire.

"Let's put it another way, Locke. The only way you're getting out of this room is through me," Dave said, speaking for the first time as he stepped beside JJ at her dad's bedside, his tone brooking no argument.

"Suits me," Locke shrugged, the younger man's supposed threat not swaying his purpose. "I been lookin' for a chance to kick your ass for over twenty years. Today's as good as any, I 'spose."

"Will you stop being an ornery old cuss and take a look at your daughter," Dave retorted, fixing the elder man with a stern glare as he felt JJ stiffen beside him. "She's scared to death. Put her mind at ease, Locke, or I've got no problem pulling in a couple of agents to sit on your ass."

Darting his eyes to a tearful JJ, Locke collapsed back against the pillows. "Well, hell," he muttered, taking in his girl's stricken face as his hands suddenly fell useless against his chest, "I reckon I'm outnumbered. But I want it noted that I'm doing this under duress."

"Whatever gets you through the night, Old Man," Dave returned evenly as he nodded shortly, taking the small concession as a victory in their world. "Sit tight, both of you. I'll go see how close we are to go time," Dave continued, dropping a kiss to JJ's bent head as he went in search of Dr. Beaumont.


	117. Chapter 116

**__****Author's Note: Many, many thanks to everyone who continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. We truly appreciate each and every one of you. Today, please travel over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and check out our latest "Getting to Know You" interview with the very talented LacytheDemonicDuck. And please, drop us a post or PM and let us know your thoughts on the forum. We'd love your input. Thanks again. And, as always, we don't own Criminal Minds.**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen**

Gently closing the exam room door as he stepped out into the hallway, Dave let out a deep breath as he glanced in both directions. Seeing a scrub-clad nurse moving busily down the long hallway, he stepped in front of her as he asked, keeping his voice low so it wouldn't carry through the door, "Can you tell me where I can find Dr. Beaumont? I need an update on the transport for Mr. Jareau."

Following the nurse's harried instructions, Dave moved down the hallway toward a small conference room. He cocked an eyebrow as he saw Jethro Gibbs deep in conversation with both the elder Gibbs and the town's only doctor. Stepping inside the room, Dave asked, gruffly, "Well? What's the next step here, people?"

Dr. Beaumont crossed his arms over his chest, his white coat bunching slightly, as he said, glancing down at his watch, "The ambulance will be arriving in about five minutes. I was just about to check on Mr. Jareau again."

Nodding as the physician grabbed his stethoscope and moved out of the small room, Dave turned his gaze back toward the NCIS agent. "Everything okay? You three looked to be talking pretty serious when I got in here."

Jackson Gibbs leaned back in his chair as he tilted his head in Dave's direction. "Not much misses that one, does it, Leroy?"

Taking a sip from the ever-present coffee cup that seemed to be permanently attached to his hand, the younger Gibbs snorted in reply, "Don't encourage him, Dad." Turning toward Rossi, he added, his jaw set, "Talking about the case. The latest victim was mutilated more than any of the previous ones. It was sloppy."

Shaking his head morosely in an attempt to remove the brutal image that had been seared into his mind, Mr. Gibbs Senior muttered as he clenched his hands in his lap, "Poor little thing. She looked like she'd been dragged through the field."

"The unsub's devolving," Rossi snapped out, his eyes narrowing as he catalogued that piece of information. "Either that, or this one was a copycat. Any chance of that?" Looking between the steaming mugs in each man's hand, Dave asked, his tone almost begging, "And did either of you think to grab me one of those?"

Reaching for something on the table behind him, Jackson Gibbs handed the hot cup of dark coffee to Rossi. "Thought you might be in need of this, son."

Peering over the Styrofoam rim cautiously, Dave furrowed his brow as he demanded, "Nobody messed with it, did they?"

"I still live by Rule #23, Rossi," Gibbs muttered, taking a negligent sip of his own brew as he stared at the other man.

"Rule #23?" Gibbs father asked, cocking his grey head to the side as he stared at his only son.

"Never mess with a Marine's coffee if you want to live," Gibbs quoted absently, his own maxim floating easily off his tongue.

Wincing at the acrid burn that seared the roof of his mouth as he took a grateful sip, Rossi shuddered. "Yeah, still as thick as mud," he nodded once, repeating the sin to take another sip, well aware of the need for caffeine if he was going to provide any assistance to JJ or her father for the rest of the afternoon.

"The better to keep you going," Gibbs shrugged, tilting his own cup in silent acknowledgement. "This is gonna be a long one. And to answer your other question, I don't think it's a copycat. I think our guy just wanted to leave Jenny's father with a lasting impression that he'd never be able to forget. No matter how hard he tries."

"Mission accomplished then," Jack shuddered as he sunk down lower in the office chair. "God knows, I'll never be able to get that little angel's face out of my mind."

"He used the same kind of incisions, and, according to Duck's preliminary findings, probably the same instrument he's used on all the others," Gibbs informed the other agent gravely.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Dave took a deep breath, reminding himself that putting a fist through the wall would serve no purpose other than earning him a charge of defacing public property and possibly a fractured hand. But the urge was there and it was strong. "So you're telling me that we've got another murder, zero suspects, and a leak in the department we're working with."

"Don't forget the skeevy reporter that wants to run an expose on JJ's past," Abby Scuitto added suddenly as she rose from one of the chairs in the far corner and walked to Jethro's side.

"Jesus," Dave groaned, running his hand over his goatee as he acknowledged the young scientist's comment. "I forgot about that little maggot."

"More like a gnat," Jethro grunted, rolling his eyes as he envisioned the devious reporter. "One good swat and..."

"No, I think Agent Rossi is right in his terminology. Maggots are more insidious than gnats. A gnat is just annoying. This guy is dangerous. If he spreads his poison in his newspaper, then..."

"It could have a negative effect on the investigation. Pissed off town folk aren't going to be especially helpful to us," Rossi nodded as he completed Abby's statement, frowning heavily. "We can't afford to have public opinion turn on our investigation."

"You're all talking about Billy, aren't you?" the senior Gibbs asked quietly, his grey eyes narrowing as he followed the young people's conversation. "Went to school with Jenny, didn't he?" he asked with a look at his son.

"That's the one," Gibbs nodded, confirming his father's statement. "Came in the station knowing information that there was no way he should have had and started trying to blackmail Jen into a story. He knew about the find in Kentucky, Dad. He knew everything."

"Good God," Jack muttered, his face an older version of Jethro's. Looking between his son and Rossi, he urged, "Let me have a chat with him. I knew his dad before he died. Maybe I'd have some luck."

"Hell, Dad, there's not anybody in this town you don't have a connection to, but this little bastard already has his mind made up. If JJ doesn't play ball, he'll go public with what he has...and he's right," he added with a pointed look at Dave, "This'll go national pretty fast if we don't do some fancy footwork."

"Oh, I'd like to do some fucking footwork, all right," Dave hissed, his fingers biting deeply into the warm Styrofoam as he thought of the damage the pushy reporter could do to the woman he loved. "In fact, I'll happily do the mambo across his unconscious body if he ends up putting the spotlight on JJ. Hell, Gibbs, she's barely holding it together as it is. The only reason she's even still standing is sheer willpower."

"Then we need to work fast because I have a feeling this is gonna be a wildfire if it gets out. And Billy Martell is holding the match," Gibbs replied, crumpling his coffee cup into a tight wad and throwing it into the trashcan.


	118. Chapter 117

_**Author's Note: Many, many thanks to everyone who continues to read, review, alert and favorite our stories. We truly appreciate each and every one of you. Today, please travel over to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and check out our latest "Getting to Know You" interview with the very talented ArwenLalaith. One of the premiere talents on our site, she's also recently taken over the Criminal Minds Fan Fiction Awards. Also, we have another discussion thread open called, "Creating the Perfect Marriage with Dialogue and Description" Please, drop us a post or PM and let us know your thoughts on the forum. We'd love your input. Thanks again. And, as always, we don't own Criminal Minds.**_

_**The Girl Who Lived**_

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen**

Running his fingers over his bald head, Derek Morgan glanced around their commandeered command center where the remaining members of the team had gathered. Meeting his Unit Chief's dark eyes, he asked the question that seemed to be hanging in the air around them, "Okay, Hotch. What's next on our agenda?"

Trading a look with Gibbs, who had just returned back to the Sunshine police station, Aaron Hotchner cleared his throat as he gestured toward the large white now in the center of the room. Drawing everyone's attention to the new picture, a smiling teenager staring back at them, he said, firmly, "This is our new victim. And we've got to use her to find out everything we possibly can. Gibbs, has Dr. Mallard already started the autopsy?"

Nodding as he eased down onto the edge of the desk at the side of the room, the NCIS agent answered, "Talked to him on the way back here. The kill's recent, eight hours at most. Cuts are sloppy, but the incisions seem to be the same. Same guy. He's just getting quicker. Duck said he'd have preliminary details soon."

Nodding as he processed that information, Hotch turned toward Emily as he said, "Prentiss, you and Reid head out to the dump site. The Sunshine police have blocked it off, but I want your eyes all over that area. If the unsub's become careless with the incision, he might have left inadvertent clues elsewhere also."

"The press, otherwise known as that little pain in my ass, is back in the station, too, Hotch," Emily said, her voice impatient as she tapped her fingers against the edge of the battered wooden desk. "Honest to God, I don't know how JJ copes with this on a regular basis. Every time I turn around, Martell is there, asking for a statement."

"She's had years of practice, Prentiss," Hotch replied evenly, shaking his dark head as he let his eyes linger a bit longer on the woman. "Just feed him the party line. It's all we have to give him right now."

"And if he runs with the story he already has?" Emily worried aloud, propping her elbows on top of the desk. "Everyone knows that's going to bring in the national feeds, Aaron. Isn't there anything we can spoon feed him to buy us some additional time?"

"He's already given us twenty-four hours," Morgan shook his head gravely, his fist clenching by his side as he propped on the desk beside Garcia. "And I honestly doubt the little fucker waits that long to run with what he's got."

"An unfortunate accident might slow him down," Gibbs mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the side wall, his eyes narrowing as he glanced up at the senior FBI agent.

Lips tightening into an almost straight line, Hotch silently endorsed Gibbs' idea although he knew it was impossible for them to go that route. "Promise him an exclusive, Emily, if he'll sit on what he has until we say otherwise."

"Boss Man," Pen exclaimed, eyes rounding as she leaned forward in the rolling office chair, "Sir, with all due respect, Agent Rossi will murder you!"

"On that, I actually agree with Garcia," Gideon frowned, nodding once as he met his former protégé's eyes.

"Easy, people," Hotch said, raising a conciliatory hand to forestall what was certain to be a full-scale mutiny, "I didn't say who the exclusive would be with. We should be able to satisfy him by supplying one of the original agents that worked the case."

"Rossi will never go for it, man," Morgan shook his head, almost wincing as he imagined the senior profiler's response to such a suggestion. "He'd rather kill the guy and bury him in a shallow grave than feed that guy's ego by giving him an interview."

"Good thing that Dave isn't the only original agent we have working this case then," Hotch shrugged, turning toward Jason as he raised one eyebrow in silent challenge.

"Oh, hell," Jason groaned as the full implication of the other man's statement hit him. "Damn it, Aaron, I came back to help, not to be put under the magnifying glass with some asshole scrutinizing choices that we made over twenty years ago based on the information we had then."

"Sacrifices have to be made," Aaron countered, quoting one of Gideon's once-favorite maxims that had been drilled into him during his first year with the unit.

"And you want me to play the part of the lamb," Gideon grumbled, glaring at his one-time student.

"Oh, can I please get a front row pass for this," Anne said with a dry smile, casting her eyes over at the man sulking in the corner.

"Actually, you can. You have history with Martell, correct?" Hotch asked, raising a dark brow at the deputy.

Feeling like she'd somehow found the only pile of dog crap in the room and dropped her foot soundly in it, Anne stared in open mouthed horror at the designated group of profilers that had overtaken her station house. "You don't mean..."

"You and Agent Gideon will be partnering for said interview," Aaron nodded gravely, including the young deputy in his plans as he waved a hand toward the man pouting beside her. "Try to keep him from ramming his fist down your only newspaperman's throat, would you?"

"What makes you so sure it'll be his fist that Billy's choking on?" she muttered, angry at herself for even opening her mouth and drawing attention to herself.

"Okay, that takes care of the paper boy for now, but we're still sitting on or hands with no leads to speak of," Gibbs noted evenly from the corner of the room.

"I actually might have something that helps with that, Jethro," a cultured British voice spoke from the open doorway. "Abby and I just found a rather unusual abnormality with this post mortem exam," the NCIS medical examiner said, holding up a single sheet of paper as he stepped fully into the crowded space.

"Talk to us, Duck," Gibbs ordered, his voice hopeful in the confined space of the room.

"This precious girl," Ducky explained, tapping the photograph of the latest victim tacked to the white board in the front of the room as he passed by it, "was mercifully spared the pain of her murderer's knife."

"How so?" Emily asked earnestly, straightening in her seat, recognizing the difference in this victim and the others from the doctor's statement.

"Her cause of death was not from the injuries she suffered at his blade. This young girl died of a drug overdose. Of ketamine," Dr. Mallard said, his British voice clipped and precise.

"Ketamine?" Gibbs repeated, his eyes scrunching as he focused on the elderly doctor. "As in, a horse tranquilizer?"

"Exactly, dear boy," Ducky nodded as he raised a grey brow. "The drug has a variety of uses for humans and animals alike. Pain management...as an anesthetic...and the dose this monster gave his victim was beyond lethal. He was in a hurry to subdue her and her dosage killed her almost instantly when it entered her bloodstream. The organ removal occurred post mortem, my friends. Abby's toxicology reports confirm everything I say," he said, carefully placing the report in the center of the scarred table.


	119. Chapter 118

_**Author's Note:**__**Calling all writers! Please check out our new writing challenge on our forum on **__**"Chit Chat on Author's Corner" **__**(you can find the link on my profile page.) In order to expand our horizons and stretch our writing wings, everyone who joins the challenge will be writing an exciting new pairing. By signing up, you'll get to suggest a pairing for someone else to write in addition to agreeing to write yourself. The story can be a drabble or an epic, romantic or friendship, AU or canon, angst or comedy…or anything in between. As the author, it is your choice to determine the direction and plot…we'll just be providing the pairing. We're certain that this will result in some fantastic stories, so check it out today! And feel free to email, PM or post to the forum thread if you'd be interested in participating. Also, please check out our newest interview with the fabulous Angel N Darkness, another of our site's many talented authors.**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen**

Tilting her head to the side as she comprehended the information that the good doctor had just shared, Emily Prentiss asked, glancing around the room, "Who would have had access to such a drug? Is it considered a scheduled narcotic or regulated pharmaceutical that would require strict monitoring?"

"Unfortunately not, my dear girl," Ducky said sadly as he waved a hand toward the medical report, easing his hip to rest against the scarred conference table. "The drug itself does not leave any specific markers in the body that would identify it by lots or tagging. Perhaps if we had the original manufacturer's vial, we might be able to contact the distributor for additional information. But without it…."

Shaking his head as the doctor's voice trailed off into nothingness, Jethro Gibbs took a sip of his coffee as he said, matter-of-factly, "Gonna be chasing a needle in a haystack on that one. Drug's too common. Far too easy to get in a farming community such as Sunshine."

"It's still a lead we have to follow. I'm assuming the best place to start with tracing possible distribution is with the local veterinarians," Hotch surmised, his jaw clenching for a moment as he glanced toward his right side. "Morgan, get with every vet within a fifty mile radius. Let's find out who's had access to this drug and what their purported use is."

"We both know that's gonna be one hell of an undertaking, considering what kind of community we're talking about," Morgan warned.

"Garcia, you'll help him," Hotch said flatly, jerking his head toward Derek.

"Bonnie and Clyde ride again," Garcia winked, her fingers already flying over her keyboard.

"Try not to meet with their fate, will you?" Hotch remarked dryly, earning himself a glare from Morgan and a wide grin from their technical genius. Turning toward the rest of the room, Hotch glanced over at his lover as he ordered, "Em, join Reid at the scene after you talk to Martell."

"About Martell," Gibbs gravelly voice said from his chosen corner, "Prentiss might want to take Dad with her. He's got history with the jerk's family. Personally, I never had much use for the little maggot, but he might be able to help," he shrugged. "He's apparently more diplomatic in his advancing years than I am."

"It's worth a shot," Anne agreed, nodding at Gibb's assessment of the situation. "Billy can be pretty single-minded when he catches the scent of a story. He's been like that ever since I can remember."

"Well," Hotch replied slowly, turning his eyes toward the deputy, "hopefully you and Gideon can divert his attention while we get a handle on this...and hopefully a lead. And on that note, let's get moving people."

As Anne watched the others file out of the room, she glanced at Jason. "Give me a second to tie up some loose ends and I'll be right with you," she said with as much professional dignity as she could muster. "I'm assuming that you don't want to approach Billy until Emily has a chance to talk to him?"

"I don't wanna approach him at all. But, I've got my marching orders," Gideon muttered, his jaw tightening as he allowed his mind to imagine the damage he'd prefer to inflict on the less than illustrious member of the press. Letting out a sigh as he met her alert eyes, he nodded, "Go do what you've gotta do. I can wait."

Waiting until Anne had slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind her, Gibbs released a low whistle. "Better you than me, man," he grunted, dropping tiredly into a seat at the table, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he stretched out his legs.

Shrugging, Gideon frowned as he mirrored the other man's pose. "It's a waste of time, if you ask me. We can rehash the past with the little ferret all day long; he's still gonna run the story he thinks will sell more papers."

Focusing his eyes on the one-time federal agent, Gibbs nodded toward the closed door. "Not to mention the small detail that, from what I saw, you've got a less than cooperative partner on this particular job. What's going on between you and Anne?"

"What makes you think there's a problem?" Gideon asked vaguely, suddenly wondering exactly how close a relationship the other man had with the petite deputy.

Smirking, Gibbs shook his head, easily reading the warning signs in the man's dark eyes. "I've known Jenny and Anne almost their entire lives, Gideon. And that go to hell look you're on the receiving end of from Anne tells me one of two things...either you've fucked up or you've slept with her. My question is, which is it?"

"None of your business," Gideon stated flatly, meeting the other man's gaze levelly, his years of professional training having taught him well how to hide his own true feelings, especially from other profilers or cops.

"You're right about that, but she's a good woman that got a raw deal with her ex...a situation that I can relate to. Don't hurt her. And if you aren't serious, I'd start observing Rule #11."

"Do I want to ask?" Gideon asked, raising a brow, having heard of the infamous Gibbs rules but never having been exposed to them before now.

"When the job is done, walk away," Gibbs quoted, his pale eyes boring into Jason's.

"That's the plan," Gideon replied tersely. Damn it, he'd forgotten how intrusive working as part of a team could be. Once upon a time, he had lived his life in his own manner, his choices not requiring any form of explanation or justification. And now, here he was once again, his every move magnified in the fish bowl that surrounded them all.

"Yeah, and plans have a way of changing when we least expect it, don't they?" Gibbs remarked, pushing up from the chair as he made his way toward the door.

"Not this time," Gideon said determinedly, balling his fists against the scarred table as he heard the door close again behind Gibbs. Shit! Those words hadn't even sounded convincing to his own ears. He could only imagine how they'd sounded to Leroy.

It wasn't as if he'd planned any of this. When Locke had called only a scant few days ago, he'd thought he'd be helping out an old friend...resolving a case that had always niggled at his soul. Hell, he'd never imagined in his wildest dreams meeting a woman that, in another life, he could have definitely fallen for. Gibbs was right. He needed to close this fucking case and forget he'd ever been to this town called Sunshine...forget about her and her vibrant red hair and intelligent blue eyes. Forget, period.

But somehow, he knew, nothing was ever going to be that simple. But, he was an expert at walking away and not looking back. He could do it now as easily as he had when he'd walked out on the BAU all those years ago.

The problem was, deep down, he wasn't sure he wanted to. And that knowledge was going to create all kinds of problems...for his libido and his heart.

"Hey," Anne said suddenly, sticking her head back into the room, "I'm done. You ready?" she asked reluctantly, her eyes resting on his drawn face.

"As I'll ever be," Gideon muttered, rising to turn and face the woman that, if he was honest with himself, interested him far more than what was safe for her. Or him.


	120. Chapter 119

**_Author's Note:_**

**_First, let us begin by thanking everyone that is reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate._**

**_We have several announcements regarding our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" today. First, we have a new interview with another of our dedicated writers, Leigh59, available to read. Also, we have several new discussion threads for you to comment on. Join our lively discussion thread called, "AJ Cook's Contract Not Renewed" and tell us what you think of CM's latest developments. We also have a thread entitled, "Fanfic Challenge 2010 Assignments" where you can see the recently assigned pairings for our first ever fanfic challenge. And finally, we've begun a thread to offer prayers and best wishes for our fellow author, JWynn. We hope to see you all there!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Nineteen**

Blinking awake quickly on a narrow office-quality loveseat in Locke Jareau's darkened hospital room several hours later, David Rossi shook his head as he realized where he was. Glancing down at his illuminated wrist watch, he really didn't need the bright dials to tell him what he already knew. It was the middle of the fucking night in a small-town hospital...and they were no closer to catching JJ's sister's killer than they'd ever been.

He tried to tamp down on the frustration threatening to run rampant through his bloodstream, to no avail. Pressing a soft kiss into the blonde head beside him, he wanted the warm comfort of JJ's heavy body leaning against him to still his unsettled nerves. But not even that welcome weight was helping at the moment. For so many reasons. The primary being that the woman that not so peacefully slumbered against him was in as much danger as she'd ever been; every move made by the unsub now growing bolder...bigger.

He knew that he should look at it as a benefit. The bolder the move, the more grandiose the kill, the better the chances that he'd slip up. Intellectually, he understood it, having literally written the book on the devolution of serial killers. But emotionally…now that changed his response completely. With each day that passed, his anger deepened a little more. His fear for this woman that had come to mean the world to him ratcheted up another notch. The stakes rose a little higher.

And with each passing moment, the woman he loved drew a little closer to her breaking point.

Inhaling deeply, Dave's eyes moved from JJ to her father, lying still in the bed, his chest rising and falling evenly as the heart monitor beeped steadily and assured all of them that Locke was alive and whole. Damn, but this latest move of the unsub's was timed perfectly, leaving no doubt in his mind that it had been a move to directly punish the elderly man. It was obvious the senior Jareau was tormented by the events from the past. And the unsub had used this opportunity to twist his knife a little deeper.

Glancing back down at JJ, he sighed. Her face seemed paler than normal, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the open slats of the hospital room's only window above Locke's bed. Even in sleep, worry marred her creased brow, a constant reminder of her suffering. And he hated his own inability to alleviate it.

Drawing his eyes to the door as it slowly opened, he nodded toward a scrub clad nurse as she efficiently moved inside the room, taking Locke's vitals with a practiced hand. Grateful that the older man remained asleep through her ministrations, Dave whispered roughly, "Ma'am, is there a place on this floor that I could grab a decent cup of coffee?"

Nodding, the nurse motioned toward the open hallway door as she murmured, "At this time of night, you want to go to the second floor café. Take a left off the elevators and it's at the end of the hallway."

Easing away from JJ's slumbering body, Dave gently placed her blonde head on the small flat pillow, waiting with baited breath until her ragged breathing returned to some form of normal. Stroking his fingers against her cold cheek, he let out a quiet sigh as he mentally willed her to stay asleep, to revitalize her exhausted mental reserves in any way possible.

Seconds later, he stepped out into the hallway, blinking rapidly as he attempted to adjust his eyes against the bright overhead light fixtures. Giving himself a moment to find his bearings, the hallways of the hospital strange to him, Dave finally found himself exactly where the nurse directed, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. And just as he took his first sip, the warmth slipping down his dry throat, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

"Rossi," he answered, his voice hoarse as he flipped open the phone.

"Dave, it's Gibbs," the NCIS's gravelly voice said, easily recognizable through the cell connection. "Dad asked me to call."

"Don't you people ever sleep?" Rossi growled, scrubbing a hand over his face as he attempted to balance the precious coffee.

Snorting, Gibbs rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his father's dining room chair. "Did you sleep when your best friend went down at the hands of a psycho?" Gibbs asked archly, an obvious reference to Hotch's recent ordeal.

"No, but I'm not in my seventies either," Rossi retorted, beginning to understand exactly where the younger Gibbs had inherited his tenacity. Dropping down onto a wooden bench, he sighed as he said, "But to answer your earlier question, both Locke and JJ are resting peacefully at the moment. Doctor Beaumont was correct. It was a mild heart attack, but barring any complications, they'll release him tomorrow afternoon."

Releasing a long breath, Gibbs grunted, "Dad's gonna want to stay with him."

"Fine with me, but he might have to fight JJ over it. You got any new leads over there?" Dave asked impatiently, glancing down at his watch again, hoping both of the Jareaus were still sleeping.

"Actually, yeah. Your boy genius found an empty vial of ketamine at the scene," Gibbs replied with a faint smile, propping his elbows on the table as he shuffled a file. "Kid was fairly glowing...reminded me a lot of McGee when he hits one out of the park."

"Reid's a good agent," Rossi agreed. "But where does this put us?"

"The local vet's office. Lot number on the bottle matched one they had on record," Gibbs answered evenly, staring down at the report Abby had meticulously prepared.

"Any chance we can trace it back to the consumer?" Dave questioned, straightening as the implications of the find raced through him, a faint thread of hope taking up residence in his mind.

"Unfortunately not. But the good veterinarian has provided us with a list of every customer that's purchased the drug for the last six months," Gibbs informed Dave, echoing the sudden sigh that came through the line. "Bad news is the list is over three hundred names. And there isn't any guarantee the drug wasn't stolen from one of the customers. Hell, farmers buy the stuff and stick it on a shelf until they have to use it. Anybody in there could pick it up."

"It's still more than we had," Dave grunted, refusing to release any shred of hope that could lead them out of their current hellhole. "Which amounted to absolutely nothing prior to this."

"True enough," Gibbs agreed. Pausing as he closed one file and opened another, he said, "Listen, I wanted to run something else by you if you have a second."

"I'm listening," Dave replied, tightening his fingers around the phone as he took a sip of coffee, mentally preparing himself for negative news.

"With you and JJ having your focus split right now, I thought maybe I'd pull in a couple of my guys. If it was okay with you."

"You're asking?" Dave grumbled as he choked on the hot coffee, amazed that Gibbs would give him the courtesy. From the years of personal and professional relationship with the man, Dave had quickly learned that Leroy Jethro Gibbs definitely did not always work and play well with others. Not unlike himself.

"Rule #38, Rossi. Your case, your lead," Gibbs retorted, tapping his fingers impatiently against the edge of the file as he waited for the answer.

"It's okay with me," Dave shrugged, leaning back against the wall as he watched the night janitor step off the elevator, a yellow cleaning cart squeaking behind him. "Who're you thinking of bringing in?"

"Dinozzo...and maybe Ziva," Gibbs said thoughtfully.

"Great, that's exactly what we need here. Another hot blooded Italian," Rossi smirked, memories of Gibb's trained crew running through his mind.

"Yeah, but unlike you, that one actually listens to me. I'll touch base in the morning. Get some rest, Rossi," Gibbs ordered suddenly, cutting the connection.

Staring at the now-quiet phone in his hand, Dave drained the remaining cup of coffee, hoping like hell this was the break they'd all been waiting for.


	121. Chapter 120

_**Author's Note: First, let us begin by saying thank you to all those wonderful people reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this, as well as our other stories. You guys seriously rock! CM readers are the most dedicated folks that we know and we appreciate each one of you.**_

_**Also, good news, our fellow author, JWynn has been awakened from her induced coma. Please feel free to visit our forum ("Chit Chat on Author's Corner" - there's a link at ilovetvalot's profile page) and leave your wishes for her speedy recovery on the discussion thread called "Let's all say a prayer for our fellow fanfic author...JWynn". I feel sure she'd love to hear from all her readers and fellow authors.**_

_**We also have two interesting interviews with a couple of incredibly talented authors, SignedSealedWritten and CMali. Stop by and leave them a comment. We've also got several lively discussion threads regarding AJ Cook and **__**Paget Brewster**__**'s plight, Joe Mantegna's Walk of Fame Star and "Tracia and Tonnie's Down Home Fanfic Wisdom." Readers and writers alike, come join the fun and discussion. Thanks again!**_

_**And, let us not forget, thanks to Kavi Leighanna and Sienna27 for their inspiring TV Prompt Challenge.**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty**

_**Prompt: Family Ties - Diary of a Young Girl**_

Staring out the small glass window in the corner of her father's hospital room, JJ felt her spirits rise slightly as she saw the faint rays of the sun rising above the distant tree line. Taking a healthy sip of the coffee Dave had forced into her hand just a few minutes prior, she turned and leaned against the metal window sill, her body still slowly awakening.

Her eyes immediately focused once again on the man lying peacefully in the oversized hospital bed. In all of her life, she'd never thought of her father as a small man, his very presence always making him appear bigger than life itself.

But not this time.

Now, with tubes and leads attached to him and IVs pumping medicine into his damaged body, she suddenly felt the weight of being the only child of an elderly parent. Taking care of him, keeping him from the sheer horror that was attempting to once again overtake their lives, that had to be her primary focus.

And while she knew that Locke Jareau would never willingly allow her to become the parent in their relationship, his health was far more important than anything else she ever could or would do with her life. Finding the unsub that was hellbent on finding her first was imperative. Her father's life might very well be depending on it.

The soft sound of footsteps invaded her moment of introspection, and she felt Dave's warm body settle next to hers. Allowing herself to lean against his shoulder for a moment, she drew in his strength, memories from the night before invading her thoughts. Although they had only the one tiny sofa, she hadn't wanted him to leave her, so they had folded themselves up tightly, his arms tucking her closer when the worries had seemed to repeatedly overtake her thoughts.

Dropping his hand against her knee, Dave asked softly, his voice low so as not to awaken her father, "It's almost daybreak, babe. You could still catch a few winks if you wanted to. Your dad's not awake and giving us hell yet, you know."

"I can't," JJ shook her head, taking another sip of the strong coffee. "Every time I close my eyes, I see that faceless monster." Pausing a moment to collect herself as tears pricked her eyes, JJ blinked rapidly, hoping to forestall another meltdown.

Her eyes affixed on her father, she finally whispered, "You know, when I was a little girl, I used to write in my diary about how big and strong my father was. How nothing could hurt him. Not even the very worst bad guy. Now, look," she choked out, nodding at her father's worn body. "He can't defend himself against this kind of evil. Not anymore."

"Hey, that's what we're here for," Dave soothed gently, tucking her against his side as he felt her shoulders quiver. "We're going to keep your father safe. We're gonna keep both of you safe, Jen," Dave assured her steadily as an idea niggled the back of his mind. Dropping his gaze to the top of her blonde head nestled against his neck, he teased, "So you were one of those girls, huh?"

"What girls?" JJ asked, her eyes closed as she allowed herself this brief moment of peace, snuggled against his warm body. She was truly beginning to believe that she was much safer when he was around…and that thought gave her more than a moment of pause.

"The diary-keepers," he clarified, pressing a soft kiss to her hair as he reached out to pull the cup from her fingers.

"I wouldn't have been," JJ sighed as she surrendered the almost empty cup. "But my therapist demanded it. Journaling, she called it. After the kidnapping, Mama and Daddy insisted I keep seeing somebody. They figured that if I couldn't talk to them about it, maybe, I could confide in somebody that was paid to keep my secrets. It started as free writing. You know, like after I had a bad dream, she'd tell me to get up and free write about it until I could go back to sleep. It just sort of exploded from there. I think I kept a diary write up until I left for college."

"All your innermost thoughts in one centralized location," Dave drawled as he dropped the Styrofoam cup onto the sill beside them. "What I wouldn't give to sneak a peek at the inner mind of Jennifer Jareau...even a youthful Jennifer Jareau."

"My views were as jaded then as they are now, I assure you," JJ muttered, shuffling her foot against his as she let out another sigh.

Licking his lips, Dave carefully phrased his next question, aware that the woman he held was fragile, at best. "Did you happen to keep those diaries, babe?"

"Yeah, dad mentioned a couple of years ago that he'd packed them up and put them in the crawl space of his new place. The boxes filled it up," JJ replied easily, those conversations with her father clear in her mind.

Nodding as he shifted them both against the metal sill, Dave suggested, "Maybe you should take a look at them over the next few days, Babe. You'll be looking after your dad anyway and have some free time."

"Why?" JJ grunted, rubbing her cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt, her body still suffering from the lack of sleep from the night before.

"Perhaps, looking at them with a fresh set of eyes might unlock something in your subconscious. You might find a clue that you weren't aware was a clue back then. Or, if you'd rather, I could..."

"Oh, no," JJ shook her head firmly, lifting her head from his neck to glare up at him, her earlier tiredness disappearing quickly. "You are not being given access to that much privileged information at once."

"Coward," Dave winked, mentally noting her suddenly clear eyes.

"Nosy bastard," JJ countered, eyes twinkling as she straightened up slowly, the kinks quickly disappearing from her back.

"You know it," Dave nodded, tightening his arm around her. "Anything that can help me understand you better is aces in my book."

"You understand me just fine as it is," JJ replied. "But, I'll take a look. At this point, anything would help."

"You never know, babe...those little journals of yours just may hold the key we've been waiting for. At any rate, it'll be a nice stroll down memory lane and show you how far you've come," Dave rationalized, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead as he felt her fingers tighten against his waist.

"At this point, I'll take whatever I can get," JJ sighed, turning her eyes back to her sleeping father.


	122. Chapter 121

_**Author's Note: Thanks to Kavi and Sienna27 for their TV Prompt Challenge. And please, check out our newest interview on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" with the very talented flashpenguin. **_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-One**

_**Prompt: One Tree Hill - "Even Fairy Tale Characters Would Be Jealous"**_

Much to his daughter's dismay and disapproval, Locke Jareau proved to be a skillful negotiator, convincing the hospital doctors to release him two days later.

Standing beside his hospital bed as she watched him button his shirt, JJ shook her head as she asked, for the third time in the last ten minutes, "Daddy, are you sure it wouldn't be wiser for you to stay here for at least another day? I don't want you to get home and something happen."

"Sprite, you heard the sawbones as well as I did. My heart's gonna recover just fine," Locke returned, letting out a well-earned sigh as he looked up at his daughter's pinched face. Resting a wrinkled hand on her arm, he pulled up slowly as he declared, "Ain't nothing gonna happen to me ag'in. Just got the dickens knocked out of me. I'm gonna be fit as a fiddle in no time."

Nodding from his seat in the corner of the hospital room, Jackson Gibbs said deeply, "Your pop knows what he can and can't do, Jenny. Besides, he ain't going anywhere without one of us anyway. Not gonna escape that easily."

Frowning as she stared from one determined weathered face to the other, JJ tried to tell herself that the medical professionals wouldn't allow him to leave unless they were certain that he wouldn't be experiencing any further setbacks. But no matter how rational that sounded in her mind, her own heart couldn't quite accept that fact, clenching tightly in her chest as she imagined the worst that could happen.

"I still think they're releasing you too early," JJ grumbled in defeat, stuffing one of her father's shirts into his carry-on as she glanced toward the door, knowing Dave should be back any time with their SUV.

"Good thing you got your degree in media relations instead of medicine then," Locke grunted, dropping tiredly down to the side of the bed.

"See," JJ worried, her fingers itching to ring the call button for the nurse, "you can barely stand up."

"No, I can barely sit still," Locke retorted, swatting at his daughter's fingers as she reached out to take his pulse. "I can stand just fine. Not my fault I got nowhere to go in this tiny room."

"Ah," a deeply amused voice said from the hallway, "I see the Jareau family feud is still ongoing," Dave smirked as he walked into the tension-filled room. "Are we ready?" he asked JJ, slipping an arm around her narrow waist.

"Daddy seems to think he is," JJ muttered, her lips tightening as she met her father's stubborn blue eyes.

"Just waitin' on a blamed nurse," Locke said, frowning at the door as he rolled his eyes. "I 'spect this place is chargin' by the hour and the wanna get ev'ry red cent," he complained, raising his wrist up to check his watch once again.

"Oh, hush, you old fool," Jackson sighed as he leaned his graying head back. "It ain't like you can carry your worldly possessions with ya into the hereafter."

"Could we stop talking about the hereafter in any capacity?" Dave growled lowly, sending a pointed look to a pale JJ as her fingers clenched tightly at his sleeve.

"Aw, hell," Jackson murmured with a hangdog look, "Sorry, Jenny. Your daddy's gonna be right as rain in a couple of days, honey."

"Jackson, would you just hush before you dig any deeper," Locke warned, looking behind him at his daughter. Reaching out from the bed, he took her free hand as he promised, "I'm fine, Sprite. I'll take my medicine and take it easy like Doc said and everything'll be just fine."

"Damn straight you will," Dave replied, his tone defying anyone to object. "Because your daughter and I will be there to make sure that you follow every rule," he warned with a hard look at the older man.

"You tryin' to be my Prince Charming or my girl's?" Locke asked archly, coughing into his hand.

"Daddy, hush. Dave's right. You've gotta do what the cardiologist says if you expect to get better," JJ admonished, pulling away to zip her father's bag with a practiced hand.

"Fine," Locke nodded, turning to glance at the man that had been intent on saving his daughter's life for decades. "But where do you two 'spect you're gonna sleep? My apartment's only got the one bedroom."

"Actually, I rented the apartment right beside yours during your convalescence. JJ wanted to be close to you, and I made a deal with the building manager," Dave explained, mentally thanking Penelope Garcia for quickly searching out the information he had needed to complete the quick plans.

"Well, well...now you sound like a fairy godmother," Locke teased with dancing blue eyes, winking at his daughter, gratified to see her lips tug up into a small smile. It was at moments like that that he remembered exactly how much she looked like her mother, God rest her soul.

"Can I help it if all the other fairytale characters are jealous?" Dave shrugged carelessly, more than willing to participate in the back-and-forth banter if it meant that JJ's worries could be laid to rest.

"Is someone in here ready to blow this popsicle stand?" a chipper nurse asked from the doorway of the hospital room.

"Hallelujah, yes!" Locke nodded, struggling to get to his feet, mentally willing his muscles to cooperate for once.

Grabbing the elder man's arm quickly, Dave steadied him on his feet before helping him toward the waiting wheelchair. "Easy there, Jareau," Dave murmured. "You go and fall, and JJ's never gonna let you out of here."

"I'm fine...fine! Just in a hurry to see the backend of this place," Locke replied, waving Dave off negligently as he grabbed for the rubber covered arms of the wheelchair.

"Daddy, one last time," JJ began, propping her hands on her hips as she stared down at his frail body, "are you sure about this? One more day surely couldn't..."

"Honey," Locke stopped her, raising a hand in the air, "If you wanna stay, you go right ahead. I'm goin' home."

Watching as the nurse wheeled Locke Jareau out of the yellow hospital room, followed closely by Jackson Gibbs, JJ met Dave's eyes.

"He'll be okay, babe," Dave soothed, reaching for her hand and tugging her against his warm body.

"How do you know, Dave?" JJ whispered against his neck, needing to believe his words even though doubts filled every inch of her over-active mind.

"I know us," Dave assured her, tightening his grip as he heard the anxiety bleeding into her every word. "More importantly, I know you. And we're both going to watch him like a hawk until we're convinced he's better," Dave promised, dropping his head to press a quick kiss against her lips.

Smiling gently, he pushed her forward as he urged, "Now, we'd better get movin', Babe. I don't put it past your father and Gibbs to leave our asses here."


	123. Chapter 122

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Two**

_**Prompt: The West Wing - "Talking Points"**_

Tony DiNozzo grinned as he watched his NCIS partner's eyes widen dramatically at the sight of the two large coolers in the now-open trunk of their assigned sedan. Wriggling his eyebrows, he motioned toward the red Igloos as he asked, "Think these will hold enough, Ziva?"

"Enough what, Tony?" Ziva David asked archly, shaking her dark head as she planted her feet firmly on the dark pavement outside the convenience mart. "And why exactly are we stopping here? This is not on our route to Sunshine, Pennsylvania. I know. I checked that Mapquest thingie before we left."

"We are here," Tony declared as he reached for one of the round containers, motioning for her to take the other, "Because this is the only place that had enough of our specially required item in stock to satisfy our current needs. And since I didn't exactly relish running from joint to joint just to get enough to fill Abby's request, I made a Senior Field Agent decision. That okay with you, Zee-va?"

Rolling her eyes as she followed the cocky man toward the sliding doors of the small corner mart, the Israeli deliberately banged the back of his legs with her cooler as she said, sweetly, "Of course, Tony. Far be it from me to question the inner workings of your mind. It would take a bulldozer to dig my way back out."

"I think I heard a tinge of sarcasm in those words," Tony retorted, shifting out of her line of fire as they headed toward the back counter. "Don't make me tell Abby that you delayed our timely arrival, Ziva. You know how she gets when she is deprived of her Caf-Pow. And apparently, the situation is already at Defcon Four."

"I still can not believe that there is no place in that town to plate her needs," Ziva said, shaking her head.

"Sate her need, Zee-vah. The word is sate," Tony corrected condescendingly. "Didn't you pass that citizenship test? I think you should be able to speak our language now."

"It was not a vocabulary test, Tony," Ziva snapped, smiling faintly at the college-aged girl behind the counter as they moved toward the refreshment counter.

Ignoring the confused look of the convenience shop employee as he hoisted his cooler toward the soda machine, Tony began to fill the container. "My partner has an addiction to caffeine," he mock whispered to the clerk, pressing a finger to his lips as the young girl blushed.

Seeing a slow smile spread across his face, Ziva frowned. "You look like the cat that ate the parakeet," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the metal counter.

"For the fourth time, the cat ate the canary, Ziva," Tony sighed, reaching for the other cooler in her hands. "Gimmee that," he grumbled, handing her the now full cooler he'd just filled.

Shifting her burden to her other hand, Ziva glanced at her watch. "How much longer do you think it will take us to arrive?"

"Hour or so, give or take," Tony replied, screwing the cap of the second cooler back into place. "You in some kind of hurry?" he asked, passing the patient cashier a couple of large bills and exchanging a quick smile.

Following Tony out of the store, Ziva shook her head as she quickly adjusted her sunglasses. "Well, I'd like to actually arrive and understand what our role in this is. As far as I could tell, this doesn't look to be related to any NCIS cases."

"It's a case because Gibbs says it is," Tony grunted, hoisting the now full coolers back into the trunk and slamming the lid. "Enough said, don't you think?" he declared pointedly, gingerly sliding the arms of his dark glasses over his ears, pressing his hair into place. "Besides, I smell a story up here," he said, sniffing the wind. "Could give us some insight into our fearless leader's character."

"The only thing I smell are coal mines," Ziva replied, wrinkling her nose as she jerked open the passenger door.

"That's because you have no imagination, Zee-vah," Tony replied with a wink, folding his body back into the sedan as Ziva did the same.

Glancing at him as he restarted the car, Ziva asked, clicking her seatbelt loudly, "So, do you know anything about any of these people?"

"Besides the fact that they're all Bureau weenies with the exception of Gibbs and Abby?" Tony asked, pulling the vehicle back onto the highway.

"I've read David Rossi and Jason Gideon's dossiers, Tony. They do not SOUND like weenies of any nature," Zive retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "They are actually quite well respected, both here in this country and around the world. As is the Unit Chief, this Agent Hotchner."

Shrugging, Tony replied, "I ran into Fornell at the office on the way out. He's working with Vance on some case, and according to him, they're all good people."

"So, you don't know any of them personally?" Ziva asked curiously.

"Crossed paths with that Agent Morgan a couple of times back when I was on the Baltimore PD. He was always good for a couple of beers after work. And he had a way with the ladies," Tony grinned, remembering the talented agent's smooth moves when it came to attracting the fairer sex. He had ridden on the other man's coattails the entire night.

"He was a pudding magnet, yes?" Ziva asked curiously, nodding.

"The term is pussy magnet," Tony groaned, wincing at the obvious difference in the two words. "But, yeah. He was," Tony agreed.

"And that is all...he is the only one you know?" Ziva asked, her body holding perfectly still even though Tony jerked the wheel quickly to avoid debris in the road.

"Yeah. You?" Tony grunted, darting his eyes toward the raven-haired woman staring out the window.

"I have worked with Emily Prentiss before," Ziva said shortly.

"Because?" Tony prodded, poking the other woman's side.

"That is classified," Ziva replied tersely, dismissing him with a sharp snap of her fingers against his knuckles.

"So, that's code for it was my Israeli daddy's business, then?" Tony remarked knowingly, nursing his damaged hand while she wasn't looking.

"Something like that," Ziva muttered, staring at her faint reflection in the wavy glass. "Besides, I only met Agent Prentiss in passing. It was her mother, Ambassador Prentiss, that my dealings were truly with."

"Tell me that you didn't use any of that Mossad moves on Agent Prentiss," Tony moaned, wincing in anticipation of the battle that could occur in his very near future.

"No," Ziva chuckled, shaking her head as she turned slightly, "I did not. She, however, taught me a few things, though I doubt she remembers. It was many years ago."

"I don't know, Zee-vah. You make quite the impression on people," Tony replied, allowing them to lapse into a companionable silence as they quickly travelled toward the small town of Sunshine, Pennsylvania.


	124. Chapter 123

**Author's Note: Hello, Readers! Once again, thank you to everyone that has been reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories.**

**We'd like to take this opportunity to announce our Fanfic Challenge - ROUND 2 for July at our forum "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Signups are through June 30th. This month, you'll simply need to tell us what pairing you normally write, what pairing you'd like to see someone else write, and what Song Title or Movie Title you'd like to see used for inspiration. On July 1st, you'll be pm'd with your assigned pairing and prompt…. and then, just write away! Postings will be due by July 31. Further details can be found at the forum ("Chit Chat on Author's Corner") and a link can be found at our profile pages (ilovetvalot or tonnie2001969)! We had a great turnout for our last challenge and some really excellent fics produced. And, now, we want to make it bigger and better. Come join the fun. You can sign up at the forum or send either tonnie or me a PM! We'd love to hear from you! And please check out our newest interview with the incredibly talented tazlvr2001!**

**And again, thanks to Kavi Leighanna and Sienna27 for their awesome Television Prompt forum!**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Three**

_**China Beach: One Small Step**_

Aaron Hotchner pushed open the door to the small room that his team had claimed as their new bullpen. The sound of chattering voices seemed to be much louder than normal, even without JJ and Rossi.

Glancing around quickly, he saw Morgan and Garcia huddled over one of her many laptops, her fingers flying quickly as she rapidly explained whatever information she was accessing. Emily was deep in conversation with Dr. Mallard, her face scrunched as she commented on the file he was holding. And Reid was gesturing wildly to a dark-haired woman that Hotch had never met before, while Gibbs and Abby were merely observing another tall man who was attempting, unsuccessfully, to interrupt Reid every five seconds.

Raising one eyebrow as he saw Jethro Gibbs turn in his direction, Hotch took a step forward as he asked, drily, "I see you brought in reinforcements. I'm assuming this is the rest of your team?"

"Told you last night they'd be here today," Gibbs nodded in the direction of his two agents. "Figured we needed a few extra set of eyes." Motioning his agents closer, he said, "Ziva David and Tony DiNozzo, meet Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief."

The raven-haired former Israeli Mossad agent stepped forward immediately, her dark eyes evenly measuring the tall agent before her. Nodding politely, she said, "Agent Hotchner. I hope we can be of assistance. Plastic times call for plastic measures, yes?"

Rolling his eyes as he nudged his partner out of the way, Tony DiNozzo groaned, "Drastic, Ziva. There's no such thing as a plastic time." Cocking his head, he nodded toward Hotch as he said, "You'll have to excuse her, Agent Hotchner. English is apparently not her first, second, third, fourth, or even fifth language."

Holding back the smile that threatened to escape as he only imagined how Jethro Gibbs managed to keep his team in line, Hotch merely replied, "We're pleased your team could join ours. We need all the help we can get right now."

"But it's not our whole team, Hotch," Abby explained, leaning across Gibbs in order to better see the FBI agent as she took a loud slurp out of an oversized plastic cup. "Gibbs left poor Timmy back at the office all by himself." Turning a dark glare on her boss, she smacked at his shoulder as she scolded, "Bad Gibbs! You know how Timmy doesn't like to feel left out!"

"He's not alone, Abbs," Tony commented, reaching out to ruffle the lab tech's hair. "He has the autopsy gremlin for company."

"Do I even want to know what you two are discussing?" Hotch asked with an arched brow, looking from one NCIS member to the other.

Before Abby could launch into what would definitely turn out to be a detailed description of their entire team dynamic, Gibbs stood up, shaking his head as he answered, "Probably not. Hear Locke's getting sprung this morning."

Hotch nodded, well aware that the room had suddenly fallen quiet as everyone waited for news on JJ's father. "I talked to Rossi just a few minutes ago, and they were getting Mr. Jareau settled back into his home. Rossi and I also talked about something new. We need to discuss the possibilities of round-the-clock protection at that complex."

"Is Rossi thinking that the unsub will attempt to attack Mr. Jareau?" Emily asked, voicing the question the entire room had been thinking.

"Right now, nobody knows what's running through the mind of our killer. I've sent Anne and Gideon over there for the next few hours just until we get a plan in place. Anne's knowledge of the area and her familiarity with Mr. Jareau will make the transition easier," Hotch explained, crossing the room to stare at the whiteboard.

"Abs and I will take the next shift. Dad mentioned he was gonna crash on Locke's couch the next couple of days. Wouldn't mind being close if something goes down," Gibbs said gruffly, dropping his coffee cup back to the scarred table.

Nodding as he mentally stowed that information, Hotch murmured, "Understood. After that, we'll break it into four six hour shifts between the rest of us."

"Suits me," Gibbs agreed. Looking around the room at their joined teams, Gibbs said in a low voice, "We need to work a plan, Hotch. The natives are getting restless."

"Do you have any suggestions?" Hotch asked, glancing up at the other man, no judgment in his face.

"Rule 38," Abby said dutifully, flashing a dimpled grin at the man beside her, her lips already closing around her bright red straw once again.

"Excuse me?" Hotch frowned, unsure what the young Goth woman was trying to convey to him.

"Rule 38," Dinozzo said, glancing over at them, taking a break in his whispered conversation with Ziva. "Your case, your lead."

"Ah," Hotch nodded, making a mental note to request a written list of these so-called rules in the near future. "Well, I propose that perhaps one of your new sets of eyes revisits the crime scene with one of my agents. Perhaps, we'll be able to find something we haven't seen before."

"Yeah," Derek grunted, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair, his foot resting comfortably against Garcia's. "Right. Man, we've been over that place with a fine tooth comb. I can personally tell you that there are about eight trees on that property, three outbuildings, a pond..."

"Okay, Morgan," Emily said, holding up a hand as she realized his line of logic, "We get it. But another look can't hurt."

"Seems like a waste of time to me," he grumbled, wincing as Penelope painfully pinched his side. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"Being a grim Gus," Penelope muttered, narrowing her heavily lined eyes at him. "Get on board, Hot Stuff!"

"I tend to agree with Morgan, myself," Hotch murmured, "But, we all know that the way cases get solved is in a series of meticulous steps, checking and re-checking what we think we know."

"That may be true," Emily sighed tiredly, rubbing her temples, "but I wouldn't say no to a big neon break in this case."

"None of us would," Hotch agreed, stealing a look at Emily with soft eyes before once again hardening his gaze, "but until that moment comes, we work within the confines of what we have. Reid, take Dinozzo out to the scene."

"Now?" Reid asked, looking apprehensively out the rapidly darkening window. "It's already dusk, Hotch."

"You scared of the dark, Wonder Boy?" Morgan teased, grinning widely at the frazzled look on his colleague's face.

"No. But I would like for the NCIS agent to be able to see where he's going," Reid retorted, flushing.

"Have no fear," Tony said, fishing a flashlight from the bag hanging off his shoulder. "We NCIS boys come prepared for anything, young Jedi."

"Jedi?" Reid repeated, cocking his head.

"Yeah...Jedi. As in Return of the Jedi," Tony drawled, walking toward the door. "Don't tell me that you don't know Star Wars."

"Oh, I'm aware of the reference," Reid said, eyeing the other man warily as he draped an arm over his shoulders. "I'm just a bit puzzled as to why you automatically assumed yourself to be the master Jedi in this situation."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun! I have so much to teach you," Tony grinned, guiding the younger man out of the room.

"Perhaps you will learn that your perceived student has already surpassed the supposed master," Reid shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as he reached the doorway.

"Oh, what a thrill! Tony may have just met his match this time," Abby declared happily, slurping her Caf Pow with glee as the sound of bickering voices drifted back into the busy war room.


	125. Chapter 124

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Four**

Slinging his duffel bag into the backseat of the standard government issue SUV that the lanky FBI agent had led him to, Tony Dinozzo cupped his hands in the air. "Keys," he called across the vehicle to Spencer Reid.

Tossing the silver ring across the front end, Reid shook his head sadly. "You know, what Morgan said really isn't true. I CAN drive. And I only almost wrecked that night in question because of his incessant backseat driving technique."

Grinning, Dinozzo palmed the keys in his hand as he opened the door. "Hey, no worries, Kemo Sabe. I've ridden with Zee-vah before. She's made offensive driving into its own art form. There's no way you could outdo her, but let's not take any chances tonight. You can chauffeur me tomorrow."

Nodding, Reid climbed into the cab beside his new quasi-teammate. The older man certainly seemed amenable enough, but he was always leery of newcomers in any capacity. Sitting stiffly beside the FBI agent as he started the engine, Tony hoped his nervousness wasn't as obvious as he was afraid it was.

"So," Tony drawled, dropping the emergency brake into place, "tell me the sitch. What do I need to know about this team of merry misfits that you're a part of, Dr. Reid?" he asked, needing to gain a feel for this new group of unique individuals he'd shortly need to ingratiate himself into. If the job had taught him one thing over the years, it was that he needed to know who had his back when the chips were down. It had taken years to gain that level of comfort with some agents he'd worked with in the past...and that was in the same company. The Bureau and NCIS were natural adversaries. Friendly competitors, but competitors nonetheless.

"I-I'm not sure I know what you mean," Reid faltered, frowning into the dark confines of the vehicle as he narrowed his eyes at the interloper. "You did get the current case file prior to your arrival, didn't you?" Surely these new additions hadn't come entirely unprepared, had they?

"Yeah," Tony bobbed her head, wriggling his eyebrows. "But, I'm more concerned about what isn't in that file."

"I'm not sure I follow," Reid said uncertainly, glancing to his left and seeing nothing in the other man's face to indicate what direction this conversation was veering toward.

"I'm talkin' team dynamic, Probie," Tony snorted, rolling his eyes at the obviously naiveté of his new teammate.

"Probie?" Reid repeated blankly, furrowing his eyebrows as the other man concentrated on manipulating their vehicle around a winding curb.

"Term of endearment, trust me, kid," Tony clarified, flashing the younger man a reassuring smile. "Tell me about your team...especially the hot brunette. I mean, I know she's off the market, but it never hurts to store the information away for future reference," Tony shrugged, nodding to himself.

"Emily? I mean, Agent Prentiss?" Reid asked, completely confused by the strange turn this conversation had suddenly taken. He had to be talking about Emily, Reid silently acknowledged. She was the only brunette on his team, but why would he think she was taken?

"Yeah," Tony nodded. "What her story?" he asked, his grin widening as his mind flashed back to his earlier introduction to the shapely woman. Admittedly, as any red-blooded male's would have, his eyes had wandered. But not for long. The laser-like focus of her Unit Chief was more than enough to warn a stupid man off. And Tony DiNozzo was far from a stupid guy.

"Uhmm, Agent Prentiss is a highly qualified federal agent with a black belt in tae kwon doe. But, I wasn't aware that she was...taken. She hasn't mentioned anything to me."

"Dude, seriously?" Tony asked, gaping as he stared in sheer disbelief at the younger man . "She's with your Unit Chief...or at the very least, he has a serious thing for her. I thought my head would incinerate when he caught me looking her direction earlier."

"I'm sure you were imagining things, Agent Dinozzo. I mean, Hotch is very protective of each of us, but I doubt that was the case," Reid returned staunchly, his loyal defense of his boss automatic and heartfelt.

"Hey," Tony said, lifting one hand off the wheel to hold in the air, "If there's one thing I know, it's women...and that one was definitely broadcasting the "I'm taken" beam, my friend."

"Now you sound like, Morgan," Reid grunted, mentally calculating the chances of his survival if the team suddenly included two self-proclaimed ladies' men.

"I'm just sayin'," Tony drawled, one side of his mouth quirking as he shifted his eyes back to the curving road.

"I think it's probably more accurate to say that Hotch noted your interest and was more than likely trying to convey that he wanted you and the rest of us to focus on the case at hand," Reid explained, certain that he was correctly identifying those characteristics in his unit chief.

"Uh huh, he was trying to convey it by attempting to do a mind meld and blow up my brain," Tony chuckled. "Not exactly just an employer-employee response. They're doing the horizontal mambo, kid. Trust me. Face it, you guys have got Rule #12 violations kicking around all over the place."

"Rule #12?" Reid queried, growing more confused with each passing moment of this decidedly strange conversation. He'd noticed Agent Gibbs' affinity for these life's guidelines, as Ms. Scuitto had called them, but he hadn't quite gotten used to them yet.

"Yeah," Tony nodded, flipping on his blinker as they neared a crossroads. "You haven't noticed that Gibbs has a rule for everything?"

"Actually, I had...but, I haven't heard of Rule #12 as yet," Reid said simply, cocking his head as he waiting for the forthcoming explanation.

"Rule Twelve is pretty clear. Never date a co-worker," Tony replied, his eyes crinkling as he added, knowingly, "I like to add my own addendum to that one, myself."

"And that is?" Reid prodded, trying desperately to follow his older partner's logic.

"Unless she's really, really HOT," Tony chuckled, "but, let's keep that between you and me, Boy Wonder."

"Of course, but I think you've been misinformed. We're an exceptionally close group of co-workers, but I don't believe we've got any of those kind of relationships going on."

Hearing the sincerity in the other man's words, Tony shook his head in mock-sadness. How could one supposedly so qualified have missed what was right beneath his nose? "You sure you're a profiler, kid?"

"The last time I checked," Reid replied honestly, unsure whether he was being insulted or not. Perhaps he could share this entire convoluted conversation to Garcia later this evening and have her decipher it for him.

"Explains a whole lot about the Bureau then," Tony muttered, fighting a grin as he mentally memorized this conversation to repeat to Timmy later.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Please forgive our extra long rambling today, but we have a lot to share. First, originally we planned to publish all our stories on Mondays. But after realizing we have ten ongoing works, we decided to split them up. So, we will publish five fics on Sundays and five fics on Mondays for the foreseeable future. As always, we will publish the odd oneshot in between, especially when we have notes to share with our readers regarding our forum.**_

_**For those following Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum, we have several announcements. First, we'd like to announce our interviews with the very talented authors Reidfanatic and ConfettiLeaves. Next, please **__**check out our mini-challenge…The Creative Reasons Challenge! Now is the time to put your creative talents to work and write a story depicting the events and/or emotions regarding JJ's departure. It can be a drabble, oneshot or multi-chapter featuring any characters you choose. For more info, check out our challenge thread on the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum.**_

_**For those of you who want to keep updated on the new threads posted to the forum, you can subscribe by going to the forum page (the link is on my profile page), then clicking "Forum Subscription" in the upper right corner. We have new and exciting discussion threads and interviews, as well as our monthly challenges, planned for the future.**_

_**Again, we want to take this opportunity to thank anyone for reading, reviewing, alerting, and favoriting our stories. We truly appreciate hearing from each one of you.**_


	126. Chapter 125

_Author's Note: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The __**Dealer's Choice August Challenge**__ is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Simply suggest a pairing from the seven main Criminal Minds characters and list three different things to include in the story. (Example: You request Hotch/Emily and your prompts are a starry night, a cashmere blanket and a bottle of Merlot.) Your suggestion will be assigned to another author, and you'll receive a similar suggestion. Your final story must include your assigned pairing and must include at least two of the three prompts you were given in some capacity. Stories can be short or long, romantic or friendship, angst or humor…and anything else in between! Sign ups will continue through August 2, assignments will be given on August 3, and stories are due by August 31!_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Five **

"Babe," Dave chided softly as he ran a gentle hand up and down JJ's stiffened spine, "you've got to relax," he whispered, wondering if she was even hearing his words any more.

Blowing out a shaky breath as she reviewed the last several hours of her life, JJ winced where her head was pillowed against Dave's broad chest. "I'm trying. Honest," she murmured, forcing herself to at least attempt to loosen the taut muscles in her shoulders . "I just can't get my mind to turn off for a while."

Smiling into the darkened utilitarian bedroom of the rented apartment, Dave nodded against the pillow as he pulled her closer on the bed. "I know, but, for now, we've done everything possible to make your dad as comfortable as possible. He's had his meds. He's sleeping in his own bed in his own home. Mr. Gibbs is on the couch, standing guard. And we're right next door on the off chance anything happens. Our bases are covered, Jen."

"And the rational side of my psyche is aware of all that, Dave. But the little girl that loves her daddy and thinks he hung the moon is a little less certain," JJ replied tightly, striving to keep the impatience from her tone. She knew he was right. That they'd done everything they possibly could to assure her father's continued health and safety. But asking her not to worry about the most important man in her life was like asking the sun not to rise in the morning. Impossible.

"I wish I could make this easier for you, Jen," Dave confessed quietly, tangling his fingers in the soft blonde strands of hair. He was man enough to admit that he'd never particularly been fond of circumstances he couldn't control. And this...this situation they all found themselves immersed in was about as far out of his control as it could get.

"I know," JJ murmured softly, rubbing her cheek against the matted hair on his chest. He had her best interests at heart. She knew that. Just like she knew he was doing everything within his power to eliminate any problems that rose up. But he wasn't God. And he couldn't control their fate any more than she could at this point in time. "It all just seems to be spinning so wildly out of control," she confided, almost ashamed at how weak those words made her sound in the still bedroom, the hum of the ceiling fan above the bed the only noise marring the perfect silence.

"Hey, he chided, rolling to half cover her, his elbow braced on the firm mattress beside her head. "What did you and I talk about earlier? You've got to concentrate on the positives we've got going for us. Your father is safe and on the road to recovery..."

"Yeah," JJ snorted as she stared up into his eyes, the faint filtering moonlight glinting off his cheeks. "But for how long, Dave?"

"We've got no reason to doubt what Dr. Beaumont or any of those three cardiologists we dragged in to confer said, babe. He's going to mend," Dave assured her, his solid voice laced with steely determination.

"But the unsub..."

"Is out there," Rossi agreed readily, sweeping a gentle finger over her cheek. "We know that. And we're ready if he attempts to make a move on either you or your father, JJ. You've never lacked in trust for our unit before. Don't start now."

"I do trust you. All of you," JJ replied quickly, unwilling to allow him to believe anything else. Her team was loyal to a fault. Her real fear was that one of them, especially this special man resting beside her, would fall victim to this maniac's twisted game. She could barely live with the guilt of surviving when her sister hadn't...if one of her team was lost, she wasn't sure she'd ever recover.

"Then believe we can do the job we came here to accomplish," Dave demanded softly, trailing a finger down her soft pale cheek.

"I will...I do," JJ nodded, her hair sliding against the pillow beneath her head as she inched closer toward him.

"And," Dave grinned with a wink, watching in fascination as the shards of moonlight flickered across her beautiful blue eyes, "did I mention that you have a guy that love's you? That will do absolutely anything to keep you smiling?"

Pursing her lips, JJ rolled her eyes. "Would you PLEASE stop saying that?" she groaned quietly, pinching his bare side as she let out a deep sigh.

"Why?" Dave grunted, swatting at her punishing fingertips lightly. "Not saying it won't change anything. And, you," he said, touching her pert nose, "need to wrap your mind around the fact that I'm not going to be easily evaded. Now or later," he added, bending to whisper in her ear and nipping her earlobe.

Jerking her head away slightly, JJ eyed him warily. "You can't be sure of that, Dave. It would be nice to believe, but this has all happened so incredibly fast. This could be fear and sexual chemistry mimicking..."

Interrupting her, Dave raised a dark eyebrow. "Exactly who's the expert on human behavior in this bed, Jen? I've lived a pretty long time and I'm well acquainted with my mind and all its idiosyncrasies. I love you. Sooner or later, you're gonna have to deal with that inconvenient fact."

"I'll deal with it as soon as I'm convinced it isn't simply a reaction to a volatile situation," JJ snapped, her eyes glinting in the dim moonlit room.

"And how would you suggest I go about that, Jen?" Dave asked, lowering his head fractionally so that his warm breath caressed her lips and his hips moved suggestively against hers. "I've used my words. I've used my body. Should I try sky-writing? A talk with your father about my intentions, perhaps?" he teased, nuzzling her cheek as he felt her shudder, her breath catching in her throat.

"Not if you want to continue your existence on an electronic plane," JJ responded breathlessly, her fingers automatically burying in his hair in spite of her intentions. "I'll get Garcia to annihilate you," she threatened, biting her lower lip as his lips trailed smoothly across the column of her neck. "Or, I could have Anne or Emily shoot you. You know how much Emily likes to play with her gun."

"As appealing as facing those three furies sounds, I'd rather prove my love in a more intimate way, Jen," Dave chuckled against her ear, tracing the delicate shell with the tip of his tongue, her answering shiver providing him all the proof he needed. "Save your threats, Babe. Sooner or later, you're gonna believe," he promised before claiming her willing moist lips with his own.

And once more, David Rossi attempted to put his considerable skills to good use.


	127. Chapter 126

**_Author's Note: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The ___****Dealer's Choice August Challenge**_ is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interview with the simply amazing **Mingsmommy**__! And, please remember our fellow author,__** Angel N Darkness**__, who was in a serious car accident on Sunday. Visit the discussion thread to leave your best wishes. Updates on her condition will be posted there as we receive them. We've also added four new discussion threads, __**"Let's Play, "Name**__**Your Beta""**__ for those of you that want to publicly recognize and recommend your beta and __**"Chit Chat with the Authors"**__ for those that have questions related to writing and Criminal Minds fanfiction, **"The Art of the Well Written Sex Scene"** for those of us that struggle with those intimate moments in our stories and **"Let's Take a Good Thing and Make it Better"** to gather suggestions on how to make this forum even bigger and brighter. Please drop by and check it out._

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six**

Locke Jareau crossed his arms over his chest and stared defiantly at the determined tiny blonde that was his daughter. "Listen up, Sprite," he ordered, his eyes narrowing as he glanced back down at the plate she had just placed in front of him. "I ain't gonna spend the rest of my life eating rabbit food when I know there's perfectly good eggs and bacon in the Frigidaire."

Smiling tightly down at her father, JJ pointed at the various items on the tray as she sat down at the kitchen table beside him. "Daddy, you heard the doctor's orders. He was very specific in the types of food that would be best for you and your heart. And I know for certain that cholesterol-laden items were NOT on the list!"

"Shoulda gone down to the diner with Jack to have breakfast with Leroy," Locke muttered as he grabbed the spoon from beside the plate, poking it into a small bowl holding a mushy mound of what appeared to be oatmeal. Bringing the spoon to his lips, he tasted it suspiciously before muttering darkly, "Hell, don't I even get any butter or brown sugar? Ain't much better'n the oats Nick feeds the horses!"

"Well, I bet they don't gripe as much!" JJ retorted, meeting Dave's dark eyes over the table, silently begging him for any sort of assistance that would calm her suddenly recalcitrant father. From the moment the older man had awakened that morning, he had been intent on proving his quick and sudden recovery to one and all. The breakfast battle was just the latest salvo in what was growing to be a very violent war.

Seeing the obviously displeased look in JJ's eyes, Dave leaned forward as he said, calmly, "Locke, I'm sure that the doctor will allow some leniency in your diet once you show some improvement. I know you don't want to have to spend any more time in the hospital, right?"

"Twere'nt my diet that put me in that infernal place to begin with," Locke objected, stabbing his spoon in the oatmeal, then swallowing the bite with a grimace. "Just got a bit surprised by that sorry sight, that's all."

Clearing his throat, Dave ignored the warning flash in JJ's eyes as he asked, slowly, "Speaking of that, is there anything you remember that seemed out of place that morning when you and Mr. Gibbs went fishing?"

"Dave!" JJ exploded, her expressive eyes flashing across the table as she slammed her palms against the tablecloth. "I don't think the morning after my father is dismissed from the hospital is the time to discuss this. Especially not during breakfast," she said sharply with a pointed look at the food platters around them.

"Jen, it has to be done," Dave reminded her calmly, exchanging a look of understanding with her father. "And honestly, would you rather have me talk to him...or Hotch?"

"I'd rather you all leave him alone," JJ snapped, dropping her spoon into her own bowl with a clatter, the soupy oatmeal splattering over the edge. "And if you can't observe those simple rules of common decency, then..."

"Sprite," Locke said calmly, interrupting his daughter's growing tirade before she had a chance to progress any further, "The man has a job to do. He might be smitten with ya, but I'm pretty sure he still outranks you. 'Sides, he's only askin' a question."

"Daddy," JJ said, instantly contrite as she faced her father, her voice filled with worry and unease, "you heard your doctor. And so did HE," she added, narrowing one eye on Dave across the table. "You're supposed to concentrate on relaxing and regaining your strength."

"First," Locke grunted, his jaw tightening, "that ain't never gonna happen eating this gruel," he said, spooning the lumpy concoction in his bowl and dropping it back into his bowl with an audible plop. "Second," he said firmly, "answerin' a couple of questions for a man tryin' to keep my little girl safe ain't exactly a trial. Though, honestly," he said, turning tired eyes toward Dave, "I don't know how much help I'm gonna be. Things yesterday get kinda foggy for me after seein' that poor child's body."

"It's not that part I need to know about, Locke," Dave replied easily, reaching for his coffee cup. "It's the events leading up to your discovery that I'm more concerned with."

"Well, ask away, son," Locke ordered, reaching to his left and squeezing JJ's hand reassuringly. "I'll let ya'll know when I'm gettin' tuckered out."

"I'll go easily, JJ," Dave assured the woman glaring at him. "But you know that this has to be done and the more quickly, the better for him and the rest of us."

"Just get it done," JJ bit out, clutching her father's hand, taking some consolation in the warm grip that firmly surrounded her fingers.

"Okay," Dave nodded, leaning back in the wooden chair. "Let's go back to my original question then. Did you or Jack notice anything out of place when you arrived at your old homestead that morning?"

Tilting his head as he remembered meeting Jack at the diner two days ago, Locke thought hard, fighting past the haze of horror that memories of those few moments brought him. So much like his baby girl...the blood and gore. Clearing his throat as he forced himself to take a mental step back and view the timeline through his old cop eyes, he said slowly, "The only thing I remember seeing wasn't exactly odd. When we pulled into the dirt road leading up to the property, I noticed that the old gate wasn't latched."

"That unusual?" Dave asked, remembering how he'd had to get out of the vehicle and open it the day that he and JJ had driven out to the property.

Shrugging, Locke replied, "Not really. Kids go back there to park fairly regular since I moved into town. It's secluded. Perfect, for teenagers. And hell, that old gate's just latched. Not locked. A strong wind could have blown it open, I reckon."

"Notice any tire tracks?" Dave asked curiously, mentally reviewing the site scene as he tried to piece together Locke's memories.

Thinking, Locke nodded slightly. "I suppose I did, cause I remember tellin' Jack that it looked like the weeds had been pushed back."

"So, he was in a hurry...he didn't fasten the gate back," Dave said to JJ, watching as her blue eyes focused suddenly, well aware that she was making the transition from worried daughter to capable agent.

"He was working on a timetable," JJ agreed, slowly nodding as she added, "He knew he had to get out there, stage the body and get out before daddy and Mr. Jack showed up."

"How long from the time you left the diner until you arrived at the pond, Locke?" Dave asked, reaching in his pocket for his ever-present notepad as he dropped his coffee mug back to the table.

"Nigh on an hour and a half," Locke answered.

"Why so long?" Dave asked curiously, doing the mental math. It was only a fifteen minute drive at normal speed limits.

"Jack had to run by the hardware store and meet Mike Conway," Locke explained, tilting his graying head to the side. "Mike's doing some renovations down at his stables and was picking up some wood. He stopped by our table at the diner and asked if Jack wouldn't mind meeting him afore we went out to the pond. Then, we had to stop at the feed store and pick up some bait. It was actually closer to two hours before we finally got out there."

"And did anybody know about your conversation with Mike, Locke?" Dave asked, his eyes boring into the other man.

"I reckon anybody that was standin' close to our table," Locke shrugged, mentally reviewing the patrons at the diner and not finding an out-of-place face in the crowd. "We weren't a'yellin', but it was a busy morning."

"So the unsub knew what his time frame was. He knew he had time to find a victim, kill and dump her. This was an opportunistic coincidence."

"You don't think he had Rebecca Branden chosen already, Dave?" JJ asked with a frown.

"I think Rebecca crossed our unsub's path at the wrong time...oh, I think he wanted someone that would affect your father...but it could have been his dog walker for all he cared. I think the fact that it was a young girl was mere chance."

"Yeah, well," Locke snorted, shaking his head as he looked down at his oatmeal, the brownish gruel staring back at him, "trust me when I tell you, that ain't gonna help her parents a damned bit."


	128. Chapter 127

**_Author's Note_**_: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The **Dealer's Choice August Challenge** is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interviews with the simply amazing **SussiRay and cmfanbex**! And please join our newest discussion threads, **"What's on Your Bookshelf"** where readers tell us about the published books and authors that inspire them and **"The Art of the Well-Crafted** **Author's Note...To Write or Not To Write"**. Please drop by and check them out. And lastly, please keep our fellow authors, **Angel N Darkness** and **Darcie91 **within your prayers. Both ladies have been in serious accidents and have separate discussion threads where readers and authors alike may leave their best wishes! That's all for this time folks! Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven**

Jethro Gibbs took a deep swallow of his ever-present coffee as he watched Aaron Hotchner walk through the doors of the small sheriff's office. Nodding a short greeting, Gibbs murmured as he looked at the other man's impassive face, "I'm assuming we have nothing new on our radar yet?"

Matching the other man's terse nod, Hotch made his way toward the coffee pot in the corner as he answered, "You assume correctly. I just got off the phone with Dave, and the only news he has to report is that Locke remembered a few things from that morning. But there was nothing new that your father hadn't already provided."

"I bet Jenny didn't enjoy the questioning it took to get that out of her pop, though," Gibbs astutely noticed, grinning down into his coffee cup.

"And another correct observation on your part," Hotch agreed, glancing up at the other agent as he added a quick dollop of powdered sweetener to his coffee. "According to Rossi, he was afraid that JJ might actually pull her service weapon and use him for target qualifications at any moment."

"That woman doesn't miss, either," Gibbs replied, raising one brow as he added, shaking his head, "She's had a gun in her hand since she came to Sunshine. Locke always made sure she knew how to defend herself if necessary."

"Which is part of the problem now," Hotch said, leaning against the edge of the table as he stared up at the oversized case board in the corner of the room. "We've reached a point where protecting JJ is getting harder. The round-the-clock protection is absolutely necessary. JJ is our unsub's ultimate victim. She has been for twenty plus years. He's focused and determined, which makes him one of the hardest types to track."

"Yeah, but that bastard's making some mistakes now," Gibbs snorted, waving his cup toward the pictures taped to the wall before dropping it to the counter, reaching for the half-full coffee pot. "That last victim was grabbed in a short time frame and staged for maximum impact. He dropped the medicine vial this time, so he's someone that had access to those meds. He had to have been in the café and heard my dad and Locke discuss their plans. Who overlaps into both groups?"

"That's what we're working on today. Unfortunately, the cafe doesn't have any sort of security system, but your local chef," Hotch said dryly, tongue-in-cheek as he referred to Mo, the diner's sole proprietor, "has graciously agreed to turn over the credit and debit card receipts to our capable hands."

"So, in other words, somebody had to threaten Mo with one of his own frying pans," Gibbs grunted, reaching for his coffee again.

"Prentiss can be very persuasive when necessary," Hotch shrugged, biting back a smile that was threatening to escape. "And when Morgan's standing behind her..."

"I think I get it," Gibbs chuckled, the mental image of old, greasy Mo facing off with Sunshine's newest residents easy to imagine.

"And," Hotch added, moving toward the white board and picking up the black marker, "while the diner might lack security, it DOES face Sunshine Bank & Trust...and its security camera. We've probably got eighty to ninety percent of the patrons coming and going on it. The diner does have a side entrance into the alley, but Cassie, Mo's morning waitress, said she forgot to unlock it until about 8:30." Adding a few written details to the already crammed space, he added, "Your father said they left the diner at nine to run over to his store. So, there was only a thirty minute window to use that door. And according to Cassie, hardly anybody does use it."

"Mostly the guys comin' in from the lumberyard. They use that door because at the end of the alley is a trail back into the woods for them to get back to the sawmill," Gibbs explained. "Next to farming, it's the second largest employer in Sunshine."

Nodding at the information, Hotch pulled out a chair. Seating himself, he continued, "So, we'll at least be able to begin making a suspect list of sorts."

"Gonna be a hell of a list. Seventy-five percent of Sunshine was in and out of the diner during that time," Gibbs muttered, his brow furrowing.

"We can eliminate the children and the women. JJ knows it was a man that took her. And we can eliminate men under the age of thirty-eight. At least it thins our suspect pool and gives JJ some faces to examine," Hotch theorized, looking up as the door to the small room suddenly banged open.

"Finally decide to join the party, Dinozzo?" Gibbs asked sarcastically as a bleary eyed Tony walked into the room, charting a direct course to the coffeemaker in the corner.

Shaking his head slowly as he yawned widely, Tony happily poured a cup of coffee. "Not my fault, Boss. You told me to bunk down with the young Einstein last night. Blame him. I've never met anybody that chants the periodic table in their sleep."

"Reid?" Hotch queried with a rare thin smile. "That wasn't him sleeping. That was him trying to relax enough to sleep."

"That explains why when the recitation of elements ceased, the sawing logs began. That kid can rival anything McGee puts out any day of the week," Tony snorted, taking a heavy sip of the caffeinated beverage.

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs asked, "Well, did you two do any actual work last night? Find anything useful?"

"Actually," Tony grunted, digging in his pocket and pulling out his cell phone, "we did." Scanning through his pictures, he finally slid the phone across the scarred table toward Gibbs. "Boot prints, Boss," Tony supplied, describing what the two other men's bent heads stared at. "About thirty meters from where the body would have been. And the damn unsub took the time to cover them with some kind of boulder. The genius noticed that a rock looked out of place. Who notices things like that?"

"Reid," Hotch said with a satisfied smirk, tapping the edge of the phone before grabbing it up. "I need to get this to Garcia and Abby. Who knows, this could be just the break we're looking for."


	129. Chapter 128

**_Author's Note__: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum is up to 66 participants. And you still have two more days to sign up if interested. We'd love to have everyone, whether you've authored hundreds of stories or never written a thing! This is for everyone! The Dealer's Choice August Challenge is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. And if you've never visited the forum, drop by for a visit. Everyone interested in Criminal Minds fanfiction and/or writing is welcome. We'd love to have you! As always, we want to take a moment and say thanks to all who have read, reviewed, favorited or alerted our stories. We continue to appreciate each one of you!_**

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight**

Snapping her cell phone shut, Anne stared across the small booth table at Jason Gideon. "Well, that's interesting," she murmured, arching one brow.

"You gonna share, or just sit there and make me play twenty questions?" Gideon growled, grabbing his coffee mug and taking a healthy sip of the less-than-appetizing diner brew.

Rolling her eyes at the face he made as he stared into the cup, Anne leaned forward, pressing her elbows to the table as she said, "That was Hotch. We've got new evidence."

Gideon dropped his mug with a decided plop as he demanded, "And?"

"And he wants us back at the sheriff's station."

Pursing his lips as he stared at the woman who was obviously intending to drive him out of what was left of his pitiful mind, Gideon growled, "More, woman. Honestly, I've gotten better intel from Al-Qaeda operatives at Gitmo."

"Yeah, I heard about that case," Anne commented, daintily sipping from her own coffee mug, watching him over the rim. "You're an interesting soul, aren't you, Agent?"

"It's former agent, thank you. And you're avoiding my questions, Officer," he retorted, shaking his head as he bit back a smile. Waiting until the harried waitress hastily refilled both of their mugs, he then asked, letting out a sigh, "What's the evidence?"

"New boot prints," Anne volunteered succinctly, lowering her voice, well aware of the audience surrounding them in Sunshine's only diner and chief watering hole. "Hotch has them sent out already for analysis. He thinks this might give us another piece of information to move us forward a notch or two."

"'Bout damned time, too," Gideon snarled, the town of Sunshine and her inhabitants rapidly wearing on his fraying nerves. Grimacing into his coffee cup, he scrunched his nose. Tilting the cup toward Anne, he asked, tersely, "Are those coffee grounds in there?"

Barely looking into the mug, Anne shrugged as she met the man's eyes. "Mo's not exactly feeling charitable toward you and your colleagues, Gideon. You're lucky he allowed you through the door. Molly was like a daughter to him...and knowing that this psycho was right underneath his nose...right underneath OUR noses...in this very diner," she said, tapping her index finger against the scarred vinyl-topped table, "isn't sitting very well with him."

"We didn't bring this unsub here, Anne," Gideon reminded her evenly, leaning back against the cracked booth . "He's been underneath your noses all along."

"That may be true," Anne agreed with a slight nod, canting her head to the left. "But, the fact is, you all came in here proclaiming yourself to be the experts, and so far, the good people of Sunshine, of which Mo is one, haven't seen any progress. What they HAVE seen are two beloved members of the community slaughtered. People are panicking. And I'll tell you what," she said, jerking her head toward the overweight elderly balding man standing behind the grill, his beady eyes staring in their direction, "when the pitchforks come out, ole Mo will lead the charge."

"Vigilante justice is only going to impede progress, Anne," Gideon stated quietly, shaking his head. "We'll get the job done, but we've got to have time to do it."

"Hey," Anne said, holding up a hand, "I'm on your side. I'm just warning you...there are rumblings. And, I think we both know who's stirring the pot."

"Our friendly neighborhood reporter," Gideon muttered, frowning. Pausing as Mo ambled from the kitchen, placing Anne's plate in front of her gently with a kind nod. And then the chef all but slung Jason's food underneath his nose, the hashbrowns sliding precariously to the edge and hanging off the side. "Thank you, Mo," Gideon said softly, meeting the other man's eyes. Gaining nothing other than a grunt, Jason sighed as the apron-clad man walked heavily back to the kitchen. "Not much on conversation, is he?"

"Not when he doesn't have anything nice to say," Anne replied evenly. Nodding to his plate, she advised, "Eat. Leaving your plate half-full will only offend him more."

Gazing disdainfully down at the runny eggs and burnt toast, Gideon nudged the potatoes back on the plate as he muttered, "Wanna trade?"

"Not on a bet," Anne shook her head, burying her fork in a fluffy omelet, the steaming peppers and onions perfectly prepared. "He likes me."

"Maybe you could put in a good word for me then," Gideon suggested, reaching for the pepper, intending to drown out whatever flavors he could with extra seasoning.

"But, Jason," Anne said with a saccharine sweet smile, "That means that I'd have to be able to think of something nice to say...and, given the circumstances, that might be difficult."

"Anne," Gideon sighed, letting the pepper shaking fall heavily back on the tablecloth. "Why don't we just talk about what happened between us?" he asked tiredly. "I think that if..."

"Stop thinking," Anne ordered tersely, suddenly losing her appetite, "I already explained what happened between us. I had one drink too many and slept with you. It was a mistake. A one-time only colossal error in my judgment. End of story."

"Maybe your story, but not mine," Gideon stated flatly, narrowing his eyes in her stubborn direction. "And if you'd just..."

"Just what?" Anne snapped, letting her fork fall with a clatter against the stoneware plate. "What difference would talking about it make, Gideon?" she hissed across the table, mindful of the multiple sets of ears surrounding them. "When this is over, you're leaving. You've said so enough times. So, where exactly is there left for this TO go?" Not giving him an opportunity to respond, she forged ahead, "Nowhere, that's where! And don't we have more important things to occupy us? Like our upcoming meeting with Sunshine's answer to Edward R. Murrow!"

"You're deflecting," Gideon commented, keeping his voice carefully emotionless, an obvious ploy against her rising inflection.

"And you're irritating," Anne countered, her fingers flicking her fork against her plate. "And thanks to you, I'm no longer hungry."

"Good," Gideon nodded, reaching for a slice of her perfectly browned toast, "Then you won't mind if I filch this, will you?"

Narrowing her eyes on the agitating man in front of her, Anne shook her head. "Are you positive that we can't solve this case without you? Maybe you'd like to crawl back under whatever rock you were under before a little early?"

Smiling around his toast, Gideon winked at her. "And miss this fun? Not a chance, lady."

"A girl could hope," Anne grumbled, smiling at a passing patron who stared interestedly at their small table.

"Maybe a girl could...but the woman sitting at the table with me ought to know better," Gideon commented, covering his grin with a napkin as he wiped his mouth. What the hell was it about sparring with this intriguing woman that made it so entertaining?

"Oh, she does," Anne said sweetly, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of her flatware. "The woman at the table was actually wondering if a fork in the eye would kill you or merely blind you."

"Well, now that this conversation has devolved into visions of how to eviscerate me, perhaps, we should discuss the situation at hand," Gideon replied, balling his napkin and throwing it on his plate.

"And here I thought you'd never ask," Anne smiled, letting out a deep sigh as she wondered exactly how much more complicated this case could actually become.


	130. Chapter 129

_**Author's Note: We have a couple of announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PWOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!**_

_**Also, we've opened a new thread called, "Find a Fic...with the help of all your friends". Ever had a story for which you simply couldn't recall the title. This thread is the place to begin searching. Details can be found on the thread. I hope you all find it a helpful addition to the forum. As always, any ideas for new threads are welcome!**_

_**We also have wonderful new interviews with two equally amazing authors posted. Please check out the-vampire-act and emzypemzy interviews and let them know your thoughts!**_

_**And, as always, thanks to everybody still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We couldn't do this without your support!**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Nine**

Wrinkling his nose as he stood outside the wooden and glass door in the middle of what passed for Main Street in Sunshine, Pennsylvania, Jason Gideon asked, dismissively, "THIS is your source of news and information for the Tri-County Area?" The bold engraved lettering on the glass proudly announced the office as the home of the Sunshine Daily Gazette.

"Not all newspapers are the Washington Post or New York Times," Anne replied firmly, shifting her gun belt slightly as she pushed open the door. The sound of an old-fashioned tinkling bell announced their arrival, although there was no one in the cluttered receptionist area to greet them. "Everyone's got to start somewhere."

Glancing around the graying walls of the small office, every flat surface covered with stacks of newsprint, files, and sundry other items, Jason muttered under his breath, "Well, if I were him, I'd blow this place up and start all over. Anything would be better than this."

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Gideon, or we'll never get anywhere with Billy," Anne warned, just as the man in question rounded a corner and came into their sights.

"Well, well, well," Billy Martell said with a growing grin, his eyebrows raising as he slowly dropped a stack of files on top of an already precariously balanced mound. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Need another tip to help solve the case? Reached another brick wall and found that you need to come to the master for info?"

"You know exactly why we're here, Martell," Gideon snarled, his lip curling in distaste of the smarmy small-time wanna-be journalist. "And let me assure you, I agreed to this under extreme duress."

"Well, I can't really blame you. It WAS your team that screwed up twenty-five years ago and let a serial killer go free to roam the United States for a quarter of a century. I'd say that would make the finest federal agent extremely prejudiced," Martell retorted snidely, leaning against the wooden counter.

"Billy," Anne said, quickly stepping between the two men before Jason could pull his gun, "I don't think this is really conducive to building a good working relationship, do you? Don't you think taking pot shots at the folks trying to catch the killer is sort of non-productive?"

"He drew first blood, Anne," Billy grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued glaring toward the federal agent that had invaded his workspace. "Just because I run a small town paper, Agent Gideon, doesn't mean that I'm small-minded."

"Couldn't prove it by what you've been publishing lately," Gideon muttered under his breath, ignoring the warning glare Anne shot him.

"I published what I knew. Hard to do anything else when the feds won't talk, isn't it?" Billy snapped, stiffening. "Our public deserves information. We have to live here. You all can leave any time you want, but this is our home. And you," he added with a hard look at Anne, "ought to understand that."

"I do, Billy," Anne said tiredly, rubbing a hand over her forehead. "But you should know, even with your limited experience, that there's a reason we don't include the press on everything. We don't wanna give this guy an edge and we don't wanna start a community-wide panic."

"Too late," Billy retorted, shaking his head as he dismissed the concern. Gesturing toward the door, he asked, voice rising, "Have you not looked around the town? It's a ticking time bomb!"

"Thanks in large part to your recent publications," Gideon growled, his eyes narrowing on the shorter man in front of him.

Lips tightening, Martell drew his shoulders back, obviously attempting to draw up to his full height. "Then I'd suggest that you both give me something else to print. Or your colleague's sordid past is going public," he threatened.

"You realize the Bureau could put a gag order on you, right?" Gideon said casually, taking a half-step forward, easily gauging the distance it would take to reach the smaller man and wring his neck.

"Go ahead," Billy shrugged, merely raising one brow, "By the time you push that one through the court, my story will be the talk of the town," Billy said confidently. "And you know it," he added, enunciating each word. "That's why you're here."

Eyes flashing, Gideon looked at Anne. "I should have let Rossi kill him," he snarled.

"Ahh, yes," Martell smiled without humor as he leaned back against the long counter separating the reception area from the rest of the office, "Agent Rossi. Now there's an interview I'd love to do."

"Trust me, Billy," Anne said sagely. "No, you wouldn't. You'd never live through it."

"Look," Gideon growled impatiently, stuffing his hand in his pocket. "I've got real work to do and I'm wasting my time here with you, Martell. What is it you want from me?"

"Why, an exclusive, of course," Martell stated easily, his posture deceptively relaxed. "With the agent that let the Sunshine Slasher go free. I can see the headlines now, can't you?

And with a look at Anne, Gideon shook his head. "Forget Rossi," he said genially, his flashing eyes belying his tone. "I'M gonna kill him myself."

Ignoring Jason, Anne tilted her head. "Now, look who has the skewed view, Billy. Aren't you supposed to maintain impartiality?"

"Friends are dying, Anne," Billy huffed. "I think everybody's ability to remain impartial is being affected. Including the agents from the Bureau."

"I realize that, Billy. But do you think putting JJ under the glaring lights is the way you wanna play this?" Anne asked, shaking her head as she considered the man before her.

"She brought this nightmare here, Anne," Billy stated baldly. "If not for her..."

"Do NOT finish that sentence," Gideon hissed, straightening immediately to tower over Martell.

"I'm telling the truth," Billy stated, keeping his gaze focused on Anne, studiously ignoring the pit bull attempting to intimidate him in his own office. "And you know it."

"What I know, Billy, is that this isn't JJ's fault. And you'll be deliberately baiting a psycho if you put her under the microscope. And, in case you missed it, you'll be painting a great big X on your chest as well. And anybody else you happen to care about. Have you thought about that?" Anne asked calmly, her eyes trained on her one-time classmate's face. "You aren't a stupid guy by any stretch, Billy. Take a beat and look at this logically."

"I'm not scared of anything, Deputy," Billy said formally, his eyes glinting in the sunlight streaming in the glass doors.

Narrowing his eyes, Gideon asked, suspicion lacing his words, "And why is that, Mr. Martell? Do you know more about these crimes than you're saying?"


	131. Chapter 130

_**Author's Note: We have a couple of announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PYOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!**_

_**We also have wonderful new interviews with the lovely Sarramaks and hot4cullenmen! Please check it out and let them know your thoughts!**_

_**We've also added two fun new prompt threads. One is called, "Fortune Cookie Fridays" based on an idea submitted by LoveforPenandDerek. Come by and check it out...perhaps, it will feed the muse. And the other is called, "Getting to Know...YOU! Tell us about yourself" It asks five simple questions that allow readers and authors alike to briefly tell us about who they are.**_

_**And, as always, thanks to everybody still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We couldn't do this without your support!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty**

Narrowing his eyes, Gideon asked, suspicion lacing his words, "And why is that, Mr. Martell? Do you know more about these crimes than you're saying?"

Turning to look at the man that had alternately infuriated her and amazed her, Anne asked, confused, "Gideon? What are you asking him?"

"Oh, Billy Boy knows what I'm asking him," Gideon snorted, taking a step toward the smirking man. "Don't you?"

"All I know is that you're apparently intent on hindering the expression of free speech, which I believe is guaranteed in the Constitution that you swore to defend and protect," Billy Martell retorted, one eyebrow raised slightly as he settled easier against the high counter.

"The framers of the Constitution weren't exactly considering the heinous acts of defending speech from a serial killer to an obvious publicity crazed news man, now were they?" Gideon shot back, his eyes darkening as he clenched his hand at his side. "Start talking, Martell. What has our unsub been feeding you and for how long?"

Her eyes widening then narrowing in anger, Anne pursed her lips as she snapped, shaking her head, "Dammit, Billy, how could you do this? You know damn well that people in our very community are being killed by this monster, and you've been aiding and abetting him!"

"I've been protecting a source," Billy retorted defensively, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and agitation. "I had no reason to believe that...I didn't...," he stuttered, his words suddenly fading off as he saw the look of fury crossing Jason Gideon's face.

"Start. Talking," Gideon said, his voice lethally quiet as he crowded the smaller man against the counter. "How much communication have you had with your so-called source?"

"I...two notes," Billy finally admitted, the words squeaking out of his suddenly too tight throat.

"You've gotten two letters from the bastard doing this to our town, Billy," Ann gasped, her eyes wide with shock, "and you said nothing? How could you? How could you put the people we know and love in such danger?'

"Give me one really good reason that I don't arrest you for obstruction of justice right now," Gideon said dangerously.

"I didn't obstruct anything, I followed a lead from a blind source and I found a story," Billy denied in a sudden show of bravado, his shoulders squaring as he faced down the other man.

"When and where, Martell? In fact, I want more than just that. I'm going to demand that you turn over those missives," Gideon ordered, his voice loud and hard, the words echoing off the walls of the otherwise quite newspaper office.

"Absolutely not," Billy shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared defiantly at the agent. "I know my rights, and I know the protected rights of a journalist in the United States of America!" Pausing, he snorted as he added, sarcastically, "Unless you've decided to declare martial law over the past few days, that is. Tell me, Agent Gideon, when did the FBI start issuing jackboots to all of its agents?"

"You're actually going to stand in our way?" Anne asked angrily, her tone hardening as she took a determined step in his direction. "Maybe you should run THAT in your beloved paper. I can see the headline now, can't you, Jason? Local Editor Impeded Federal Investigation! Citizens of Sunshine at Extreme Risk Due to His Actions!"

"Martell, you can talk to me here. Or, I can put you in a room with Locke Jareau and David Rossi...both of which will want your head on a pike for the danger you've placed JJ and the rest of this town in," Gideon told him grimly.

"You're bluffing," Martell retorted, but his cheeks suddenly paled at the thoughts of facing those two men.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Anne added smoothly, reaching behind her for the handcuffs that were always attached to her belt. "Seems to me like Billy isn't being forthcoming, now is he? And since I believe that we have proof that he has been aiding and abetting a known felon, aka our unsub, then it's time for him to see the inside of our police station. From a prisoner's point of view."

"You can't arrest me for doing my job, Anne!" Billy objected, attempting to take a step backwards but finding his back already pressed against the counter.

"Oh, but we can," Gideon answered, his tone laced with steel as he narrowed his eyes on the small man. "And we can also hold you for seventy-hours for questioning, the indefinitely after that on a material witness warrant. That is," he added deeply, his eyes meeting Billy's, "unless you want to start talking."

Glancing nervously toward Anne as he heard her rattle the handcuffs once again, Billy gulped audibly as he sighed. "Oh damn it all. It wasn't like you're making it out to be. Hell, I didn't even know what was happening when I got the first friggin' letter!"

"Keep talking," Gideon ordered, talking a half step backwards as he waited for the newspaper editor to continue his story.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Billy Martell pursed his lips as he admitted, 'The first letter was showed up on my desk one afternoon. I'd been out running errands all over the county, trying to drum up new business. When I got back, I found a plain sheet of paper in the center of my blotter. All it said was "You'll be getting some exciting news soon. Stay tuned fo-r further details."

"And you didn't think that was suspicious?" Anne countered, crossing her arms over her chest as she let the cuffs dangle in front of her, a visible encouragement for the man to continue.

"It's Sunshine, Annie," Billy retorted, shaking his head as he waved a hand toward the plate glass window behind them. "Half the county is forever dropping stuff off in here about their bake sales or church picnics or dollar days down at the car wash. And all of them think it's the most exciting news on the face of the planet. I didn't have any reason to believe this was anything different!"

"But the second note was different, wasn't it, Martell?" Gideon demanded, his voice filled with a deadly uncurrent. "That's the note you should have been worried about, wasn't it?"

Shrugging, Billy propped his elbow on the counter as he said, haltingly, "Maybe. Hell, I don't know. You can't blame me for wanting to protect my livelihood, can you? That second note gave me details you people wouldn't release. Circulation went through the roof. And…"

"And what did that note say, Billy?" Anne interjected, well aware of the stiffening posture of the older agent beside her.

Meeting Anne's angry eyes, Billy jerked his head toward a desk in the back corner. "I can do you better than that, Annie. I kept it. You can read it for yourself."


	132. Chapter 131

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Again, several announcements to make...please visit our discussion forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". We have introduced a new discussion thread called, "Announcing the Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds Awards on fanfiction. net 2010". Please see this thread for tentative guidelines and know that more details are coming soon. With all of the readers and authors support, I believe we can make this venture an incredibly fun experience! So, please everyone, come on over and take a look. **_

_**Thanks to everyone taking the time to continue reading our work. As always, we couldn't ask for better readers than those in the CM fandom and we appreciate everyone taking time to let us know what you think!**_

_**We have a couple more announcements for you all today. We're proud to announce that signups are open for the Fanfic Challenge - Round 4 on our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" or, as we like to call it, the "PYOP Challenge" (pick your own pairing challenge) through September 1st. For those interested, simply go to the forum to the PYOP Challenge thread and sign up with your favorite pairing. On September 2nd, we'll assign you a scenario to write provided by some of our lovely fellow authors. This will give everybody an opportunity to write what they love and provide readers with some awesome stories. Please sign up at the forum or shoot us a PM signifying your willingness to participate. So, please come join the fun and let's make this the most successful challenge yet!**_

_**We've also added a new 'Getting to Know" interview with our fellow author, canny-bairn. Please check it out!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Thirty-One**

Watching the newspaper man shuffle toward the back of the room, Anne pressed her hand firmly to Gideon's stiff arm as she murmured under her breath, "Steady, Jason. We need the information he has, remember?"

"What I remember is the look on JJ's face out at that damn cabin," Gideon retorted, his dark eyes fixed firmly on the man across the room. "I remember the sheer horror that she has lived through all over again because of this freaking psycho. And if I find out that this son of a bitch had anything to do with it, then…"

"Then I'll be the first one to plant him in the ground myself," Anne interrupted, her voice still low but lined with steel. "I've known Jenny almost as long as you have. And I also know that she'd much rather we use whatever information we can gain from Billy to solve the case than to crucify him for his stupidity."

Swallowing his reply as he furiously watched the editor wave sheets of white paper rapidly in the air, Gideon nodded jerkily in terse agreement with the woman at his side.

Waiting until Billy returned to the long counter, Anne carefully removed the crumpled paper from his hand as she said, far more calmly than she felt, "I think we need to preserve this for evidence now, Billy. Whatever clues we can find on it might help us find the man that sent it."

Shrugging, the editor crossed his arms over his chest as he avoided looking in Gideon's direction. "Don't know how that's gonna make much difference. You can read for yourself that there's not much there."

Gideon growled darkly as he stepped closer, "We'll be the judges of that. You're not exactly in any position to be making decisions anymore, Martell."

Anne deftly arranged the pages side by side as she read slowly, "Ask what the FBI found in Kentucky. It's an eye opening revelation."

"The son of a bitch was pissed we weren't playing the game by his rules," Gideon mumbled, peering over Anne's shoulder as he quickly analyzed the writing and words. "He wasn't getting the recognition he wanted, so, he decided to go find somebody that would give it to him," Gideon growled, jerking his head up and narrowing his eyes on Billy again.

"But," Anne said, her eyebrows drawing together, "he hasn't got any recognition. Well, not on this," she amended with a nod toward her hands. "That could make him mad, Jason. Really mad."

"Wait! Are you saying I might be in danger?" Billy yelped nervously, looking anxiously between the two agents as he took a cautious step away from those letters.

"It means you might be the perfect bait," Gideon muttered darkly. "What's the other one say?"

Scanning the jumbled lines quickly, Anne glanced toward Billy, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "When did you get this one?"

Cheeks puffing out, Billy shrugged. "Couple of days before the merry band of federal misfits showed up," he replied sarcastically, throwing a glare in Gideon's direction. "At the time I got it, I didn't make any associations."

"Company's coming in the form of g-men, compliments of a Sunshine sister," she read aloud, taking time to enunciate each word thoughtfully.

"He isn't stupid," Gideon murmured, his brow furrowing in concentration. "He knew we'd come."

"Now, how was I supposed to know these," Billy said with a note of complaint in his voice, nodding toward the crumpled pages, "were written by your guy?"

"You had your suspicions with the first one, Billy," Anne condemned firmly, her lips pursed as she met the editor's eyes. "By the second, you KNEW. And selling papers became more important than keeping people safe! Dammit, Billy, what kind of friend are you if that's all that matters to you?"

"I have a journalistic integrity to preserve," Billy blustered indignantly, his shoulders stiffening in defiance underneath his rumpled white shirt.

"Bullshit," Gideon denied, clenching his fist at his side as he forced himself to resist the urge to punch it into the smaller man's smug face. "You took this information and tried to blackmail federal agents. And, I, for one, don't like being bullied. You're under arrest, Martell...at least until Hotch and the others decide what they want to do with you."

"But, I have a paper to get out," Billy yelled vehemently, waving his arms to encompass his crowded and messy office.

"That's your concern right now, Billy?" Anne asked, disgust dripping from her voice. "People are dying...people we've known all our lives...and that's what you care about?"

"The people need to know what's going on!" Billy argued. "And YOU people certainly aren't telling them a damned thing!" he accused sanctimoniously, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Gideon asked, almost conversationally, his calm words belied by his tightening jaw. "Anything we say could provoke this bastard, Martell. And writing about his exploits gives him EXACTLY what he wants. It gives him a THRILL. Do you want to be responsible for giving this prick exactly what he wants?"

"Better yet, do you want to get JJ killed?" Anne rapped out, her fingers clenching the edge of the counter.

"No!" Billy yelled. "But I do want my town to stop living in fear. And when there is information available, fear abates. And both of you know that," he insisted.

"Your town folk NEED to be scared, Martell. This unsub isn't choosy. Every person in this godforsaken town is a potential victim for him. And that's what they need to focus on to stay alive!" Gideon retorted angrily.

"You're responsible for creating a panic in this town, Agent Gideon. And pretty soon, the pitchforks and torches are gonna come out as sure as they did during the Salem witch trials," Billy replied impatiently, his nostrils flaring with the effort of speech. "If you'll just let me..."

"What you do or don't do will be up to Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi," Gideon interrupted, his tone brooking no argument as he shook his head. "Cuff him," he ordered Anne.

"Jason, are you sure...?" Anne began doubtfully, cutting her eyes in the agent's direction. "I mean, he's an idiot, but..."

"Cuff. Him," Jason ordered again, shooting Anne a hard look as he met her uncertain eyes, holding her gaze until he saw capitulation.

]"Turn around, Billy," she sighed, stepping forward, reaching for her handcuffs that were always attached to her belt loop.

"What the hell are you two arresting me FOR?" Billy yelled, taking an involuntary step backwards as he watched Anne unsnap the metal pieces.

"Obstructing a federal investigation, tampering with evidence, collusion to commit a crime," Gideon rambled. "Hell, just pick something, Martell. Anything. At this rate, a federal judge'll throw you under the jail!"

"I'm reserving my right to remain silent," Billy bit out, his lips slamming together as Anne snapped his wrists tightly together.

"Thank God," Gideon muttered, glancing at Anne as she finished cinching the cuffs around Martell's wrists. "Obviously, what this idiot DOESN'T realize is that right now, he's safer locked up in a jail cell than roaming the streets. You crossed a psychopath, Martell. He ain't gonna be any happier with you than I am. The difference is, though, when I kill you, I promise not to eviscerate you."

"Jason!" Anne chastened with twitching lips as she propelled a still-silent Martell beside her.

"What?" Gideon snorted, rolling his eyes as he gingerly slid the incriminating letters into an empty file folder on the counter. "It's true!" Turning toward the door, he ordered, "Come along, Bob Woodward. We need to get the contaminated evidence to Reid for handwriting analysis. Maybe you've been hiding a clue all along."


	133. Chapter 132

**Author's Note: First of all, we have exciting news, my friends! Nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum and as always, tonnie2001969 and I would be delighted to answer any questions that you may have. **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off.**

**There is still one day remaining if you'd like to sign up for the "PYOP" (Pick Your Own Pairing) challenge at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Please join us in making this our most exciting challenge yet. So far, we have 81 participants and we can't wait to read all of the wonderful stories! Details and sign-ups are waiting for you.**

**Finally, we've added a new discussion thread that will hopefully become a useful resource for everyone at the forum called, "Finding a Beta on Chit Chat on Author's Corner". If you'd like to advertise your beta skills and make yourself available to other authors, please come sign up. We'd love to hear from you!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Two**

Jennifer Jareau lifted her head up from her perusal of the local church bulletin as she heard footsteps enter the otherwise quiet living room. Glancing over at her napping father, she reminded herself that he was safe and sound, his eyes still closed. For the last hour, she had been content to just watch the older man sleep, hoping that he was healing and growing stronger with each passing moment.

But she could tell by the look of anger and worry covering David Rossi's face as he stepped into the sunlit room that something was definitely out of kilter. She felt her shoulders stiffen as she asked, her voice suddenly hoarse underneath her whisper, "What's happened, Dave?"

His fist clenching at his side as he remembered the terse conversation he had just had with Jason Gideon, he muttered, jerking his head toward the screened in porch, "Let's go out there, Jen. I don't want to wake your father."

"I'm awake, son," Locke Jareau murmured from his prone position on the well-worn couch, his legs slowly stretching. "Been resting my eyes 'neath my eyelids is all." Pushing up slightly, he turned to face his daughter and Rossi as he demanded, "Start talking. You look like a thundercloud's dropped on your head, and Sprite here's gotten paler than a chicken's egg. 'Taint a good omen, I can tell."

Glancing over at JJ and seeing her hesitant nod, Rossi forced himself to let out a deep breath as he eased down next to her on the overstuffed loveseat. Deliberately calming his tone, he said, evenly, "We've just got word that Billy Martell's had communication from the unsub. He knows important evidence was found in Kentucky at the cabin. And he's been holding onto it for all this time."

"What do you mean, he's been communicating?" JJ asked sharply, her eyes widening as she pressed her hands tightly together in her lap.

Perching on the arm of her seat, Dave looked between father and daughter. Both wore identical expressions of worry mixed with fear. "Look, it appears that the source Billy Martell was relying on wasn't a police office run amuck. It looks like it was the unsub."

"What?" JJ blurted, surging to her feet as she felt her heart literally skip a beat. "I'll kill him!"

Grabbing JJ's arm and easing her back down into the deep loveseat, Dave shook his head. "We can't kill him yet, although, believe me, I'm leaning toward that solution myself. First, though, we might be able to use him."

"What did the unsub...I mean...just start explaining, Dave," JJ ordered wearily, massaging her forehead as she tried to control the raging thoughts that were certain to overtake her once again.

"All I know for now is that when Gideon and Anne went over to the newspaper office for their so-called interview, Gid somehow got a confession of sorts from Martell. Evidently he received a note a couple of days prior to our arrival."

"He knew we'd come when I realized what was happening," JJ whispered, a shiver creeping up her spine as she glanced up at Dave's face.

"Yeah," Dave confirmed, sliding a gentle hand against her stiff shoulder, "he did. But we'd already suspected that, Babe. At any rate, he got another one just after we returned from Kentucky."

"Wait a second," Locke said, raising a shaky hand to get their attention. "It was public knowledge that I'd brought my baby's remains back here to be re-buried. Billy would have already known that." Seeing the guilty flush blanketing JJ's face, Locke's eyes narrowed. "There's somethin' else, ain't there?" he asked, shifting his piercing gaze from his daughter to Rossi. "What the hell have ya'll been hiding?"

"Nothing it will help you to know, Locke," Dave replied evenly, covering JJ's trembling hand with his.

"You let me be the judge of what I need to know, Whippersnapper," Locke snapped, his stooped shoulders squaring as he sat up on the couch. "Ya'll found somethin' else out down there?" Pausing as they remained silent, he bit out authoritatively, "Jennifer Anne Jareau! Answer me!"

"D-daddy," JJ whispered uncertainly, her blonde hair flying as she shook her head. "Nothing I found out or saw down there could possibly help you."

"Locke, leave it alone," Dave urged, his hand tightening protectively around JJ's, her fingers trembling beneath his touch.

"Maybe I need to remind you that it was my baby girl that died at this monster's hand...that it was me that will live out the rest of my years knowing I killed an innocent man. I have a right to know the truth, damn it!" Locke demanded, surging to his feet, his eyes flashing with obvious ire. "And if you two won't tell me, I'll sure the hell find somebody that will. Reckon I still got me enough pull down at the station to pay Billy my own visit."

"Daddy, no!" JJ gasped, pushing to her feet as she took a step toward her father.

"Nobody is trying to keep you from the truth, Locke," Dave said, moving in front of Locke to intercept the older man. "What we found down there was meant to hurt you...hurt you and a lot of other families."

Paling, Locke faltered, his steps stumbling for a moment. "What do you mean by that?" he asked tightly.

Grabbing the elder man's arm gently, Dave eased him back down on the couch. "We found remains, Locke. The organs that he took from his victims...we found them. They'd been staged at the cabin."

"Sweet Christ," Locke breathed faintly, staring blankly into space. His voice came in a sudden gasp as he demanded, "My Lacy?"

Nodding once, Dave caught the older man as he slumped forward, a broken cry leaving his parched lips.

"Daddy," JJ worried, hurrying to her father's side as he struggled to compose himself. Folding his gnarled hands in hers, she fought the sob threatening to escape her tight chest. "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. I wasn't," she swore, as she felt his shoulders shake.

"All these years...he just kept her br-...why?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"He has a deranged mind, Locke," Dave answered steadily, easing down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "For him, those jars were nothing more than trophies. And he used them as his trump card."

Shaking his head blankly, Locke wiped his eyes. "Why would Billy do this? I've known that boy most of his life. I knew his daddy, too. They were good people."

"I don't think Martell looked at it like he was trying to hurt anyone. He let greed and ambition blind his better judgment and he'll pay for that," Dave assured the older man. "And, honestly, after the first note, he had no idea who he was dealing with. After the second, he had an inkling, I'm sure. But he couldn't prove anything."

"He had a suspicion," JJ spat, her fury filling every word. "We all know he did."

"And we'll deal with that," Dave stated calmly, pressing his hand against her shaking knee. "But right now..."

"Right now, you both need to go find out what that boy knows," Locke interrupted, finally pulling his thoughts together as he straightened his shoulders.

"No," JJ shook her head vehemently, turning to face her father. "There's no way I'm leaving you..."

"Don't sass me girl," Locke ordered sternly, squeezing his daughter's hand one last time before pulling his fingers away. "You can call Jack to come babysit me if you want, but both of you need to get over to the station and find our family some answers. Once and for all."


	134. Chapter 133

**Author's Note: First of all, we have exciting news, my friends! Nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the CM site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum and as always, tonnie2001969 and I would be delighted to answer any questions that you may have. Now, let's get nominating! Our first ballots are beginning to trickle in and we love hearing from each of you! **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off. And a very **_**BIG**_** thanks to all the authors helping us advertise these awards! We truly appreciate any assistance you can provide.**

**We also have several new interviews for you at the forum with the incredibly talented **_**lazywriter123, TML, and Wraith Ink-Slinger**_**. Please join us as we get to know them.**

**Finally, we've added a few new discussion threads for our reader's pleasure. The First is called, **_**"The BAU Bullpen is Open for Business"**_**. It introduces a podcast run by a couple of our fellow authors, **_**BonesBird**_** and **_**clarebones**_**. Please check it out! And lastly, we have our newest **_**Fortune Cookie Friday**_** prompt available. I hope you all will check these exciting threads out. **

**And don't forget to get out there and nominate your favorite authors and stories. We're excited to hear from you!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Three**

Pausing outside the battered wooden and glass door that led into the Sunshine Police Department, Dave hesitated for a moment as he pulled JJ closer to him. The entire ride from her father's home to Main Street had been filled with heavy silence, JJ's dark expression easily informing him that she was once again lost in her thoughts. There was no doubt in his mind exactly how dark those memories of hers were, his own experiences from those days slamming in his own mind. And try as he might, he couldn't help but want to ease whatever horrors that she was once again reliving, even just for a moment.

Glancing up at her self-appointed protector as he suddenly stopped instead of heading straight into the fray, JJ wrinkled her forehead as she impatiently motioned toward the door. "Dave, we really need to get inside. I want to…"

"I know, JJ," Dave replied evenly, pulling her further to the side, the small alcove of the sidewalk creating a perfect porch area. Glancing around to ensure that they were not about to gather an audience, the afternoon crowd of Sunshine having dwindled to just a few passersby, he said, softly, "Look, honey, you know you don't have to do this again. I can deal with Martell, and report anything that…."

Firmly raising one hand to stall his words, JJ shook her head as she narrowed her eyes in his direction. "Don't even go there, Dave. I know good and well what your idea of a report would be. You would censor anything that you didn't think I could handle, and I'd be left with information that wouldn't satisfy a kindergartner." Jutting out her chin, she took a step to the side as she muttered, "I'm going in with or without you, Rossi. I want Billy to tell me to my face why he thought it was a good idea to take tips from the man that murdered my sister."

Gently stalling her with a hand to her arm, Dave warned softly, "You can't let your emotions rule you, JJ. If you can't go in there and be the calm, poised professional that we all know you are, then..."

"Wait a second," JJ drawled as she pulled back her shoulders, narrowing her eyes on the man staring down at her with concerned eyes. "You're lecturing me on detaching? The guy that very nearly put his fist through a wall when we went back to the apartment across from Daddy's to grab our coats?"

Jaw clenching tightly, Dave murmured, "You're right, Jen. I am emotional right now. That little maggot could have gotten you killed before we ever figured out what his connection was to the unsub. But the difference is that we can use my anger to intimidate him. Yours, on the other hand, might just serve to shut him down."

"Or open him up," JJ countered reasonably, tapping her fingers against his wrist. "If that bastard has one ounce of shame in his body, he'll spill his guts as soon as I ask the first question."

"Babe, I don't think that's how this is gonna go down," Dave said with a sigh, wanting to prepare JJ for the obstinate bastard he felt sure they were about to encounter. "I don't want you to be disappointed if we don't get anywhere right off the bat. Believe me, Hotch, Gideon and I won't stop hammering him until we're certain we know everything he does."

"We have to get some answers, Dave," JJ whispered frantically as she shook her head, hysteria beginning to edge its way into her voice as she gripped his hand tightly. "We need a lead...something...anything! I'm not sure how much longer Daddy can handle this. You saw him! He's so angry..."

"Not at you, Bella," Dave said vehemently, cupping her jaw as he forced her frantic eyes to his, trying to shield her from the horrors that invaded her mind. "He's frustrated, yes. But he knows that you're doing everything you possibly can and then some," he insisted, tugging her closer.

"It's not enough," JJ denied desperately, shaking her head. "It wasn't enough to save that little girl...or Molly...or my sister. And all this is happening because it's ME he wants!"

"And that's not your fault either," Dave growled. "Jen, maybe it's time for you to..."

"Don't you dare say it," JJ hissed, slapping a hand against his chest, her eyes flashing in denial. "I'm staying right here until either you find this monster or I'm de-"

"NO!" Dave shouted, gripping her arm and shaking her lightly, ignoring the stares of a couple of uniforms walking out of the station. "Don't even say it. Don't you dare," he said, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"You have to at least be ready to consider the possibility of using me as bait, Dave," JJ said, keeping her voice low as she met his determined eyes.

"No, I don't and I swear to God, I'll strangle the first idiot brave enough to even put the idea on the table," Dave argued, his spine stiffening at the very idea of dangling her in front of this madman again.

"Damn it, Rossi," JJ said angrily, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot, "You're impossible."

"And immoveable," Dave agreed, equally determined. "Especially when it comes to risking your safety."

"I'm your goddamned ace in the hole and none of you will see it!" JJ argued, running an impatient hand through her hair as she glared at him. "If I was anybody else, you'd be yelling to use me from the rooftops."

"You aren't anybody else, Jennifer," Dave replied tersely. "And you never have been to me...even before I realized who you were. Now, feeling like I do...knowing what you've been through, it'll be over my cold dead body that I allow anyone to willingly put you in this bastard's crosshairs. Fucking forget about it," he demanded.

She was arguing with a brick wall and she knew it. Standing outside, wasting her breath on him wasn't going to exact justice for her sister or any other of that maniac's victims. Drawing a deep breath, JJ blew it slowly out through her nose as she willed her heartbeat to return to normal. Damn it, but he was impossible...and infuriating. And even with those deficiencies, she found herself falling even more hopelessly in love with him. His love for her was becoming her greatest weakness. And the son of a bitch wouldn't let her pull away. Every time she tried to erect a wall between them, he tore it down with ruthless precision. Of course, he'd warned her that he would. But the actuality of it still astounded her.

"We're wasting time," she finally said, her voice cool, her temper anything but.

"Don't test me on this, JJ. If you think I've been an obnoxious pain in the ass before, it'll be nothing compared to what I become if you push me," Dave stated with quiet sincerity. "I love you. Don't punish me for it."

Eyes filling with tears at his soft declaration, JJ swallowed tightly, battling the swelling emotions swirling much too close to the surface. "I'm not trying to," JJ whispered, her words threading out weakly.

"Ah, hell, Bella," Dave groaned, wincing as he caught a teardrop with his thumb, wiping away the evidence of her emotions. "Don't cry," he murmured, drawing her against his chest. "We're gonna catch this bastard, Babe. Then you and I are gonna have a long vacation in a very isolated and far away location."

"I hope so, Dave," she whispered against his chest, resting her cheek against his heart. "I really do."


	135. Chapter 134

**Author's Note: We've got several notes for you today, guys, so hang with us for a second. **

_**First of all, we'd like to talk to you about our next challenge! **__**Wanna fun way to celebrate Halloween this year? Join us for our Round 5 Challenge – The Candy Land Adventure on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. Our challenges are open to any author, regardless of experience…and we have a spot ready for you. All you have to do is suggest a CM pairing and the name of a popular candy. We'll take all the suggestions, present them to the Great Pumpkin, then assign you a pairing & candy type at the first of October. You'll have a month to write your story, and it can be whatever you choose…drabble or epic, romance or friendship. And it does not have to be about Halloween or candy! For more information and to sign up, visit our forum, Chit Chat on Author's Corner, and click on Round 5 challenge!**_

**Second of all, we have exciting news, my friends! Nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the CM site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum and as always, tonnie2001969 and I would be delighted to answer any questions that you may have. Now, let's get nominating! Our first ballots are beginning to trickle in and we love hearing from each of you! **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off. And a very **_**BIG**_** thanks to all the authors helping us advertise these awards! We truly appreciate any assistance you can provide.**

**Additionally, we have a wonderful new interview for you at the forum as well. Come, as we get to know the talented cm4ever this week.**

**Also, we wanted to take a second to thank everyone that continues to read, review, favorite and alert our stories. Writing is a pleasure, but you guys, you make it worthwhile!**

**And please, fellow authors and readers, don't forget to get out there and nominate your favorite authors and stories. We're excited to hear from you!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four**

His jaw clenching tightly, Aaron Hotchner stared across the small table at the man who currently held their closest link to the unsub that had been terrorizing not only the town of Sunshine but also their team. "Mr. Martell, I don't know what you hope to gain by remaining uncooperative. This situation will only deteriorate further if you are not forthcoming with any information you might still have in your possession."

Rubbing his hand over his face, Billy Martell leaned forward as he declared, loudly, "How many times do I have to tell you people? I don't know anything else. I told Anne and that jackbooted thug of yours everything already!"

Looking up from his position in the chair in the corner, Jason Gideon smiled, almost nicely, as he said, "Gee, Billy Boy, any more names like that, and I'm gonna think you don't like me. And I thought we were getting along so nicely."

"What I don't like, Agent, is being accused like a common criminal when all I did was exercise my first amendment rights," Martell shot back.

A sharp knocking interrupted the exchange just then, and all heads turned toward the door as Anne poked her head inside. Meeting Aaron's eyes, she said, evenly, "Just wanted to let you know that Agent Rossi and JJ are here."

"Well, I guess it's time that Rossi has a chance to have a chat with Clark Kent here," Gideon commented, leaning back in his chair, the front two legs coming off the ground.

"Don't antagonize him, Gid," Hotch warned, his dark eyes finding his colleagues across the room. "We both know that Agent Rossi isn't exactly known for his diplomatic behavior."

"I know," Gideon said conversationally, deliberately toying with Martell as the newspaper man squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "But he's getting better, don't you think? He was only suspended for a month the last time he lost his temper, right?"

"Suspended?" Billy faltered, his eyes glancing wildly toward the now-closed door.

"Trumped up charges of brutality," Gideon lied, shrugged easily as he enjoyed the fear building on the slimy little reporter's face. "He only broke the suspects jaw, after all. A man that can't take a swing ain't a man at all."

As Gideon finished speaking, Billy jerked in his chair as the door to the room slammed open and David Rossi strode into the room, JJ following closely behind him.

"Hello, Billy," Rossi smiled coldly, stopping at the edge of the table. "Fancy meeting you here." Looking around Rossi growled, "I want the room. Alone."

"Rossi," Hotch said hesitantly, playing his part to perfection as he watched out of the corner of eye, Martell's face paling rapidly, "that isn't a good idea."

"So far, no idea has worked out particularly well for us, has it, Billy?" Rossi asked, narrowing his eyes on the man that might have gotten the woman he loved killed. "You've certainly pointed out each one of our errors in your news articles."

"I...uh..." Billy faltered, his fingers rapidly clenching the edge of his chair.

Ignoring the younger man's stuttering, Rossi barked again, "The room, gentlemen! JJ and I have some questions we'd like to pose to our esteemed guest," he said, glaring coldly at Martell.

Sighing with exaggerated heaviness, Hotch rose to his feet, nodding to Gideon. "Let's go."

"What?" Martell yelped, leaning forward. "You're both gonna leave me alone with an agent with a known rage problem that's linked intimately to one of the murderer's victims?"

"Yeah, Hotch, I kinda wanted to grab some popcorn and pull up a chair for this one myself," Gideon grinned maliciously, wriggling his eyebrows. "I wanna front row seat if Rossi really goes off his beam this time."

Ignoring Gideon, Hotch shook his head at their link to the unsub. "If you recall, Mr. Martell, both Agent Gideon and myself offered you numerous opportunities to speak to us regarding anything you might know. You've declined to share. I think that perhaps an agent that chooses more alternative methods of communication might be appropriate."

Eyes widening as he watched the two agents file out of the small room, Billy gulped as his eyes fell on David Rossi's livid face. Quickly looking at JJ, he whispered, beseechingly, "You can't leave me alone with him."

"I will if I think it'll give us the information we need to keep this town safe, Billy," JJ said simply, crossing her arms over her chest. "How could you?" she asked softly, disgust coloring her every word. "How could you keep this from us? You saw what was happening on our streets. You knew what this unsub was capable of...how could you do this?"

"Because he doesn't care, Jen," Dave said caustically as Billy opened his mouth to defend himself. "Look at him. Even now, he's shouting his innocence to anyone that'll listen. First Amendment rights, my ass!" Slamming his hands down on the table Billy sat at and leaning forward to loom over the smaller man, he shouted, "You're now impeding a federal investigation. That carries some serious prison time, Billy Boy. And, even if you find a lawyer smart enough to get you off, I'll make sure you sit in lock-up until the trial. If you live that long. Federal pens are pretty rough places," he whispered threateningly.

"You don't scare me," Billy bit out, though his voice warbled as he attempted to scoot his chair back, hoping for distance between him and the obvious mad man before him.

"I haven't tried to scare you yet, Billy," Dave smiled coldly, straightening slightly. "Up until now, this has been me on my best behavior. Ask anyone, you little maggot."

"I've told you everything I can tell you," Billy argued, his hands clenching around the edge of the table in front of him nervously.

"Have I mentioned that my tolerance for bullshit has reached an all-time low, Martell?" Dave barked, his fist slamming down on the table violently in front of Billy's body.

Watching as Billy swallowed convulsively as he dropped his gaze to Dave's clenched fist in front of him, JJ stepped forward and lightly touched her lover's shoulder. "Take a step back, Dave," she said quietly but firmly. "I want to talk to him."

"Jen," Dave began, shaking his head determinedly. "We've BEEN talking to him. I'm for speaking another language. A much more physical language. One that's got nothing to do with love," he said, his eyes flashing as they raked Martell.

"I realize that, but I still want a chance," JJ replied evenly, her jaw clenched. "Alone," she said meaningfully.

"Absolutely not," Dave denied immediately, turning to stare at the petite blonde in amazement.

"Dave, look at him," JJ said, nodding to the bound man, his arm handcuffed to the chair. "He can't hurt me and I'm armed. Let me try," she insisted, taking a step forward.

Jaw tightening as he stared into JJ's flashing eyes, Dave finally nodded. "Fifteen minutes," he growled tersely. "Then we do things my way."


	136. Chapter 135

**Author's Note: As you all know by now, we are in full swing on the Profiler's Choice Awards hosted on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". And we'd like to offer an extra incentive to get those nominations rolling in. For the next five people to complete the nomination ballot in its entirety, I would be happy to write a oneshot of your pairing preference (hetero, slash or femslash, doesn't matter!). We have an abundance of incredible stories and authors to choose from this year and we have already received many wonderful nominations. Just to refresh your memory though, tonnie2001969 and myself (ilovetvalot) have removed ourselves from eligibility in the interest of avoiding all appearances of self-promotion. But, we want to make this an incredible experience for each one of you and give you a well-rounded final voting selection to choose from. So let's all put on our reading caps and pick our favorites! **

**Also, don't forget to sign up for our newest challenge at the forum. We're honoring Halloween with our first ever "Candy Land Challenge" and signups run through September 30th! Details are at the forum!**

**As always, guys, Happy Reading!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five**

The thin wooden door had barely closed behind Dave's reluctant back before Billy Martell began babbling wildly. Trying to push up from his chair, he said, rapidly, "Look, Jenny, you have to believe that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you or your family. You know me better than that. We've been friends for…"

Slamming her hand down on the battered table, JJ snapped out, interrupting, "Friends? You call THIS friendship? The last time I checked, friends don't offer aid and comfort to the enemy of other friends, which is exactly what you did!"

Martell shook his head earnestly as he declared, holding up his free hand, "Jenny, just listen. All I did was…"

"All you did was ignite a powder keg that could potentially explode and decimate Sunshine. And my family," JJ responded tightly, her blue eyes flashing as she stared at the man she had known since elementary school. Shaking her head, she asked, her voice stiff, "Do you have any idea, Billy, what it means to read your life story on the front page of the local newspaper? To know that the one place that you've always felt safe in no longer exists? What did you hope to gain by allowing any form of communication with that mad man, Billy?"

Dropping back in his seat, Martell shook his head as he muttered, blowing out a loud breath, "It's free press. Look, I'm sorry if I hurt you along the way, but don't you think the public has a right to know what's happening?"

"I think the public needs to be protected first, Billy," snapped JJ, forcing herself to soften her tone as she reminded herself that she needed his assistance. Whether she liked it or not, the man sitting before her could very easily hold the final clues that they needed to cracking open this elusive case.

Easing down in the chair on the other side of the table, she propped her elbows on the wooden edge as she stared at him. The young, sometimes brash, boy that had been part of her childhood had once had a compassion about him, even though he didn't want anyone to know it. But now, he had obviously grown up into a win-at-all-costs man, leaving casualties trailing in his wake. But somewhere, she honestly felt that there was still a glimmer of that former personality still deep inside.

Drawing in a deep breath, she said, hoping to draw him into the case by appealing to his journalistic side, "Billy, there's got to be more that you know. You're a powerful man in Sunshine. You've probably had contact with the man somewhere along the way and just didn't realize it."

"Jenny," Billy said, shaking his head doubtfully, "whether you and those goons you call colleagues want to believe it, I've told you everything I know. I've turned over every scrap of communication I had with your alleged unsub."

"There's nothing alleged about this monster, Billy. Trust me," JJ said, lowering her voice as she looked across the table at her old classmate meaningfully, "he's very, very real."

"That isn't what I meant, Jen," Billy sighed tiredly, shaking his head. "What I meant is that I'm not convinced that the person that sent me these notes IS your guy," he explained, running a hand over the back of his tense neck.

"Why?" JJ questioned simply. "Billy, he gave you information that only the killer could know," JJ said quietly.

"Not necessarily," Billy disagreed. "Those notes were vague at best. Somebody with just a little insight into what happened all those years ago could have sent them. There was never anything concrete in them to indicate that I was in direct communication with a psychotic murderer. Look for yourself, Jenny!"

"I'd rather you tell me, Billy," JJ said softly, forcing her shoulders to relax as she leaned her elbows on the table. "Let's go through this step by step. Just you and me," she suggested calmly. "No yelling. No screaming. Just two old friends working toward a common goal."

Eyeing the blonde haired woman that he'd have sworn he knew well just a few years ago, Martell finally nodded. "Okay," he said, consenting, "But, you keep those idiots you work with away from me, Jen. Hell, how you can work with such an unstable..."

"Billy," JJ interrupted, aware that her colleagues were watching just a room away on a closed circuit feed, "let's just focus on this now. You can bitch against the intolerances of the FBI later."

Watching Billy's reluctant nod, JJ inhaled deeply. "Okay, let's go back to the beginning. When did you receive the first correspondence from what we think is the unsub?"

"About a month before you or any of these other fools showed up," Billy replied impatiently. "I already told the others this, JJ."

"Work with me, Billy," JJ said, closing her eyes for a moment as she strove to keep her tone patient. "You never know what we'll uncover by going through it one more time."

"Sorry," Billy mumbled, flushing.

"Okay, was there anything special going on in Sunshine that week? Anything of any note at all happen?" JJ asked, watching the editor's face carefully.

Thinking back, Billy racked his mind. "It was the week of the annual rodeo down in Dupont," Bill recalled. "I'd just gotten back from the arena when I found it on my desk. It's funny," he snorted, "I rode down there that day with your dad and Mr. Gibbs. Honestly, Jenny, I didn't think much about that first note. Somebody's always telling me there'll be exciting news coming my way. It's small town life. You know that. If not for the handwriting, I'd have said that first note was completely unconnected."

"I remember," JJ nodded. What the other man was saying was completely true. When you lived in a town as small as Sunshine, any news WAS big news. "What about the second communication, Billy. Did you suspect anything with it?"

* * *

_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_


	137. Chapter 136

**Author's Note: Hello, all our fanfic friends! Several announcements today, so, hang on tight!**

**First, our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" has a new interview up with the fabulously talented klcm. Please stop by and get to know her and several other of the brilliant authors in CM fanfic. And if anyone has an author that they'd like to see interviewed, please shoot me a private message. I promise that we'll do our best to coax them over to talk to us!**

**Second, there are FOUR days left for the October Challenge, "The Candyland Challenge". In the spirit of Halloween, the rules are simple. Name a candy, a pairing you'd like to see written and the pairing you normally write. You'll be assigned a pairing and a candy by October 1st. You will have until Halloween (October 31, 2010) to post a story with your candy prompt and pairing. It does NOT have to be a Halloween story...it just must contain a reference to the candy. For example, if you were assigned a "Goo Goo Bar" as a candy, you could make that the candy an actual BAR in your story. The more creative, the better. Sign-ups are at the forum or you can shoot us a PM (ilovetvalot OR tonnie2001969) if you're interested.**

**Also, please, please, please don't forget to get your nominations in for the first EVER "Profiler's Choice Awards. Nomination ballots and rules are at the forum. Don't forget, I'm (ilovetvalot) still willing to write a oneshot of your pairing choosing to the next five people to complete a ballot. This is a wonderful opportunity to give your favorite stories and authors the recognition that they deserve on ff. net. Also, please remember, in the interest of just saying "no" to self-promotion, ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969 are NOT eligible for nomination.**

**Also, readers & authors, please come sound off on our newest discussion thread. Tell us how you'd feel about the idea of a fanfic based CM Christmas Gift Fic Exchange. We're eagerly soliciting opinions and ideas!**

**So, please, drop by and get a blank ballot and tell the fanfic community who YOUR favorites are! We'd love to have you!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six**

Shrugging, the newspaper editor stared across the small table at his one-time friend, then dropped his eyes. "What can I say, Jenny? It was just another piece of paper with words written on it."

Watching closely as the man suddenly looked away, she could see his gaze dropping to the left. Narrowing her eyes, JJ said, her tone stiffening for the barest second, "You said you would cooperate and tell us everything you knew, Billy. Now's not the time to be evasive. Not unless you want the rest of my team to make another appearance."

Flicking his eyes back at her, Billy shook his head as he said, tiredly, "I think I can live without another visit from the goon squad. And I'm telling you everything I know."

Sighing, JJ leaned back in her chair as she asked, more calmly than she felt, "Was there anything about the wording of the letter that reminded you of anything? Maybe you've heard someone use some of the same phrases. Or maybe the paper gave you a clue."

"I'm not accustomed to analyzing all of my notes and hot tips for watermarks or linguistic leanings," Billy snorted, rolling his eyes as he propped his free elbow on the table. Motioning at the copy of the letter lying next to JJ, he said, "It's plain notebook paper. Any kid in town could buy it at the drugstore. And it's written in plain black ink. Not exactly the Magna Carta."

"It may not be, but apparently you have analyzed it more than you admitted," JJ observed, forcing her voice to remain calm as she realized that the man had paid closer attention than any of them might have realized. And the Billy that she knew from all those years ago was a very observant person, his skills on the debate team well known in their small high school. She only hoped that his talents were still as acute as they had once been.

Drumming his fingers on the worn wooden table, Billy finally admitted, "It's the last part, Jen." Picking up the document, now sealed in a plastic bag, he read, "Company is coming in the form of G-men, compliments of a Sunshine sister." Glancing at JJ, his eyes narrowing for a moment, he shook his head, "It's informal, yet it uses fifty cent words. We don't use words like G-man around here, Jenny. Hell, most of our town folk wouldn't even know what the hell a G-man is. And this one," he said, tapping the third note as he recited the missive, "Ask what the Federal Bureau of Investigation found in Kentucky. It's an eye opening revelation."

"So?" JJ asked, cocking her head as she studied Billy's face and tried to read his expression. Honestly, she'd forgotten how hard following his logic had been in all the years since high school. While he was skilled, he was also a creature of habit, refusing to follow any path but his own.

"So, nobody around here talks like that, Jenny," Billy said impatiently, blowing out a short breath. "The guy that wrote this is educated. And he knows how to turn a phrase. What bothers me is that I know I've heard that...eye opening revelation part lately. I just can't remember who said it."

"It's a common turn of phrase, Billy," JJ sighed.

"Not around these parts," Billy replied. "Look, JJ," he sighed, his shoulders slumping again, "that's it. That's all I know."

"Look at the handwriting," JJ ordered, pushing all three sealed bags toward him. "Does anything about it look familiar to you?"

Pursing his lips as he studied the documents, Martell shook his head. "JJ, I see dozens of ads and such a day...nothing stands out at me, but your experts are welcome to take a look at my files. I've got every classified ad that I've run in the last five years. If your guy wrote on one of my handwritten forms...I've still got it."

Well, JJ thought grudgingly, it was something, she supposed. Nodding toward the two-way glass, she sighed. "Okay, Billy. Sit tight. I'm going to go talk to my team and try to haul your ass out of some of the trouble you're in. But I swear to God, if you hold so much as a whisper of something you think you might know, I'll personally serve you to Rossi and Daddy on a silver platter."

Hanging his head, Billy's cheeks reddened. "Honest to God, Jen. I didn't think anything I had would help you. I wasn't even sure what I did have."

"Billy, don't try to sugarcoat it," JJ snapped, stiffening, her earlier fury rising quickly to the surface once again as she jerked open the flimsy door. "You were looking for a way to get ahead. You let greed get in the way of a years old friendship and you put a lot of innocent people in danger. Don't make the mistake of thinking I'll protect you twice."

Closing the door behind her, JJ leaned against it tiredly. God, would this nightmare ever end? How many more citizens were they going to lose before this bogeyman from her past made his final move? Inhaling deeply, she pushed away from the door and walked into the observation room. "He doesn't know anything, guys. I've known Billy almost all my life," she said, shaking her head as she took in the gathered group, their expectant and worried faces staring at her. "And, if he does know something, he doesn't realize it."

"We can hold him, JJ," Anne said, glaring through the glass at an anxious Martell. "It would serve his ass right if he had to miss getting out a couple of issues."

"But then the unsub couldn't contact him," Gideon countered, leaning casually against the wall.

"And Mr. Martell might well be our best chance at catching a killer," Hotch said, his eagle eyes trained on the newspaperman. "If we can't use JJ as bait, maybe he'll do the trick."

"Wait!" JJ yelped, looking over her shoulder at her one-time friend. Waving a hand toward the two-way glass, she declared, "Billy might have made a mistake, but he doesn't deserve to be put in danger."

"He's already in danger, Jen. Maybe the bastard could do us a favor and manage to be useful, too," Dave retorted, unwilling to forgive the younger man for what could have been a fatal error.

"And just think of the headlines he'll have," Gideon added with a smirk.

"Okay, people, while Reid analyzes the files he and Dinozzo went to pick up and Garcia runs the tickets from the diner for handwriting comparisons, let's figure out how we use Edward Murrow in there," Hotch stated, nodding toward the glass.

* * *

_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_

**_Again, thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story!_**


	138. Chapter 137

Author's Note: Hello, readers! A couple of notes for you today.

_**First, please remember to stop by our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and grab a nomination ballot for the first EVER Profiler's Choice Awards! You have TWELVE days remaining to nominate your picks and we'd love to hear from each one of you. Come, help us make sure that your favorite stories and authors get the recognition that they deserve.**_

_**Also at the forum, signups for our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange" are underway! All you need to do is reply to the thread at the forum or send us a PM telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven**

And twelve hours later, the plan was in place….much to JJ's dismay.

Pacing back and forth in the small confines of the apartment she was sharing with Dave, JJ measured her steps as she said, angrily, "Look, Dave, I still don't think this is a good idea. Billy's not the enemy here. The unsub is."

"He's our closest link to the unsub, Jen," Dave countered, shaking his head as he moved to intercept her path before she could execute another turn. "Honey, we've talked about this. You know as well as I do that Martell's the first good lead we've had. We have to run with what we've got." Easily recognizing the mutinous look forming in her flashing blue eyes, he held up his hand as he attempted to stall the coming tirade. "And combined with the lack of matching information from any of the files or credit receipts, this is the only plan possible."

"So Billy's going to be our target du jour?" JJ asked bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at the man she loved…the man was currently intent on driving her crazy. "What if…"

"No what ifs," he said sternly, taking another step closer to her. "All Martell has to do is spend some time in the diner this morning and put his newshound ears to work for good instead of evil. With all of the intel we've been able to piece together, we're fairly certain the unsub is intertwined with the local population somehow. The diner is the closest thing Sunshine has to a town hall. And Billy's local, so he'll blend right in."

"You mean he'll make the perfect plant," JJ retorted sharply, her forehead pinching as she glared in his direction. "If he follows the script that you and Jethro created for him, he's liable to end up just like all of the other victims!"

"That's why we've got back up all over town. All Billy has to do is let a few pertinent facts leak that would make the unsub think that the next issue of the newspaper might have more information than the unsub would like."

"I still don't like it, Dave. Billy isn't trained for this," JJ shook her head, letting out an audible frustrated sigh. "Not even close. My God, he can't even fire a gun."

"He doesn't need a gun, Jen. The only weapon that Billy Martell needs right now is that big mouth of his. And for once, he'll be spouting the hot air we inflate him with," Dave countered evenly, watching closely as two flushed spots appeared on JJ's cheeks.

"We're baiting our unsub by letting Billy question his intellect. Do you know how angry this guy will be when he hears how we've profiled him to be mentally deficient? How we call his kills amateurish? He's going to snap, Dave. You know he is. And chances are that Billy will..."

"...have the exclusive he's been waiting for," Dave interjected smoothly, reaching for her hand only to feel her fingers jerk away at he last moment. "We've got eyes on him, Jen. Eyes on his house. Eyes on his office. We're monitoring everyone he comes into contact with. Now, we just have to let him plant the seeds and wait."

_Stewing silently at his corner table in the diner, he methodically chewed his toast as he watched Billy Martell holding court at the center table of the small restaurant. _

_That bastard was so easily manipulated. He knew that's what was happening even if that windbag of an editor remained clueless._

_The FBI had gotten to the redheaded buffoon, swaying him to their side with promises of fame and exclusive stories. Idiot. The fool had no idea who he was dealing with._

_Sloppy work? Amateur kills?_

_They were trying to goad him into action. And who was he to deny them what they wanted, he thought with a slow smirk. They wanted action? Another example of his very detailed work? _

_Fine. He could give them that._

_Since the g-men so obviously needed a brain, he'd make sure they got one. And he'd make sure he left his signature prominently for them all to see this time. Perhaps the back of the shoulder was too tame. Maybe it was time for him to make a statement._

_Nodding to the elderly Ms. Lutz as she passed his table, he smiled. The people in this town had no idea who they were dealing with. The man that sat in the Methodist church pew every Sunday...the man that attended every sporting event at the high school...the man that never turned away any one in need...he was the monster that lurked in the night...their own personal bogeyman. _

_And none of them were smart enough to see it, he silently laughed._

_Waving at Mr. Gibbs and his son as they walked out of the diner, trailing the hapless newspaperman, he plotted._

_It was time to show them exactly what he could do. Especially her. She needed a reminder of just how powerful he was. Evidently her memory had dimmed during the intervening years. But, he'd remind her._

_The thrill of the kill was upon him. He only needed to find that perfect victim...that person that would make the statement he needed. _

_And then his eyes found her as he watched Billy pause on the street outside the window. _

_She was pretty. Long burnt gold hair...her skull the perfect size for cracking. Watching as Billy wrapped an arm around his fiancee, his heart beat just a little faster, that familiar quickening in his blood warming him. _

_He smiled absently as he watched the younger man place a chaste kiss against her lips, her radiant face upturned to gaze at him._

_Ah, yes, young William. Enjoy her now. Love her. Immerse yourself in that youthful adoration. Do it while you can._

_Because tonight, when the moon rises full and majestic in the darkened sky, she'll be mine. And she'll follow me like a lamb to the slaughter. _

_Sweet. Innocent._

_Because she trusts me. The harmless neighbor residing amidst them. No one suspects...no one can imagine the evil living inside me. The evil that I thrive on._

_Yes, he thought, watching attentively as they moved down the street._

_Tonight she's mine._

* * *

_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_

_**Again, thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story!**_


	139. Chapter 138

_**Author's Note: Hello, friends. A couple of announcements for you all today.**_

_**We have FOUR days left to nominate our favorite stories and authors for first ever ff. net based Profiler's Choice Awards located at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". The nomination deadline is October 15, 2010. We have had a great response so far and we still want to hear from you. Rules, deadlines, and the blank ballot are all located at the forum (which can be reached thru a link in both my and tonnie2001969's profile pages).**_

_**We'd also like to announce our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange"! Sign-ups are simple. Participants can either PM us or join on the forum thread **__**telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

_**We also have a new discussion thread open for your comments called, "What Do We, the Authors, Owe Our Readers?" Please drop by and leave your thoughts.**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight**

Gathered around the small video monitor that was serving as the BAU's only surveillance screen, the various members of the FBI and NCIS stared intently at the various faces that crossed the screen.

Shifting to the side for a moment, Jennifer Jareau pointed at the corner of the monitor as she said, "That's someone I don't know. But everyone else seems to know him, so…."

"I'll tag him for recognition, peaches," Penelope Garcia declared, easily clicking the necessary keys as she added, "Now aren't you all glad you listened to me and put a camera on Billy Boy's lapel so we could have up close and personal video of his time in the diner?"

Reaching out to massage her shoulders, Morgan kept his eyes glued to the monitor as he said, supportively, "We always listen to you, Mama. This time, you just made sure that we heard every single word. Multiple times."

Any response Garcia might have been thinking of making was interrupted by a sudden terse word.

"Stop!" Gibbs declared, his shoulders stiffening as he moved closer to the monitor. As the video froze in place, he stared intently at the middle of the screen, then said, "That man's not happy."

"That's just Nick, Jethro," JJ said absently, her forehead wrinkled as she shook her head again. "He's probably tired of all the hoopla in town. You know how Sunshiners are when their routines get messed up."

"He should join the party," Rossi muttered, reaching out to pull JJ closer when she tried to move out of his reach. Whispering in her ear, he asked, "What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing," JJ shook her head even as another chill crept over her spine. "I just can't believe I'm sitting here spying on people I've known all my life. It feels wrong."

"It's necessary," Dave corrected, stroking his fingers against her stiff neck. Compared to what could happen to them, the inconvenience of a few Federal agents to Sunshine's citizens was a small price to pay. And as far as he was concerned, nothing was out of the realm of possibility when it came to protecting the woman he loved.

"What about him?" Reid nodded at the screen, his long finger indicating a bearded man in the corner of the diner.

"That's Jimmy Parker," Gibbs grunted, narrowing his eyes at the wavering screen. "And he's guilty of a lot of things, including being a prize ass, but he's not our guy. He was already here during the crime spree in Kentucky."

"And this grizzly bear in the corner," Emily tapped the screen over the image of a long wiry haired male. "Who is he?" she asked, squinting at the too-small monitor.

Silence reigned as everybody studied the screen, watching as the unknown subject darted his eyes around the diner as he sipped his coffee.

"I don't recognize him," Gibbs said, running through his memory as he tried to place the man on screen.

"Me, either," Anne shook her head, cocking her head as she, too, stared at the screen. Turning slightly she asked, "JJ?"

Sighing as she turned back toward the monitor, JJ's eyes narrowed as she looked at the man. "I...I don't think so. But, put a mask on any of these guys and it could be the guy from twenty-five years ago," she groaned, leaning back against Rossi's strong chest, taking a small bit of comfort in feeling his arms wrap around her waist.

"I'm running recognition on him," Garcia chirped from behind them.

"Tony," Gibbs ordered, "You and Ziva get in the diner and tail this guy," he continued, nodding at the screen.

"You got a feeling in your gut, Boss?" Tony asked, quickly looking at his superior as he moved closer toward the tightly-knit group.

"Something like that," Gibbs replied softly, closely eyeing the man on the screen as he smiled at the waitress.

"Could be indigestion," Reid said knowledgably, his eyes wide and bright. "An antacid might help..."

"It's not that kind of feeling, Genius Boy," Morgan snickered, biting back a laugh as Gibbs shook his head in disgust.

"We're on it, Boss," Tony grinned, smacking Reid on the back of the head as Ziva followed him out of the room.

Shaking her head as she stared at the scenes unfolding on the screen, JJ muttered, "I've known ninety percent of these people for the majority of my life. I can't imagine them hurting Lacy and me, let alone anybody else."

"And we all know that a great deal of the time evil lurks in plain sight," Gideon reminded her as he leaned against the wall, removed from the group but well aware of every nuance and every personality.

"And it's highly deceptive," Hotch said in agreement, scooting back from the table and walking toward the coffeepot. Steadily pouring coffee into a mug, he offered a cup to Emily. Handing it off to her, he caught her dark eyes lingering on his face. Smiling faintly, he reached for a second cup as he continued, "This guy has already proven multiple times that he has the art of blending in down to a fine art."

"You really think he's there?" Penelope asked, nodding at the image of the diner on screen. "Right now?" she shivered.

"He's there," Dave rumbled, "He wouldn't be able to resist."

"Which means Billy's in a hell of a lot of danger," JJ worried, frowning at the monitor when it suddenly distorted, compliments of Billy's hand.

"Oops," Penelope said, bouncing in her chair. "Mr. Martell is on the move," she said knowledgably.

"Morgan, Reid," Hotch ordered immediately, "Stay on him. Anne and Gideon, back them up. If Billy's done his job well enough, he might very well have just incited the unsub into action."

"Emily, go grab that surveillance tape from the diner," Dave ordered, his words seamlessly following the unit chief's. "Let's see if anyone follows Edward Murrow outside," he suggested, nodding toward the screen.

"On it," Emily said, grabbing her jacket and slipping it over her shoulders. "Can I get anybody anything while I'm there?" she asked, shooting a worried look at JJ.

"Wait," Hotch said, grimacing as he swallowed the coffee in his cup. "I'll go with you...I could use a cup of coffee that doesn't taste like sludge."

"Grab us a couple of cups while you're there," Dave asked, nodding toward a pale JJ. "I think we could use it."

"No," JJ whispered as the door closed behind Emily and Hotch. "What we could use is a break," she murmured, watching as Billy stopped to kiss his fiancée outside the diner. "Preferably before there's any more bloodshed."


	140. Chapter 139

_**Author's Note: Hello fellow readers and authors! A few housekeeping items for the day. First, we are pleased to announce that we are ahead of schedule and the FINAL VOTING BALLOT IS NOW AVAILABLE for the first ever ff. net based 2010 Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. To vote, you can access the forum through either my (ilovetvalot) or tonnie2001969's profile pages. Details, rules and the voting ballot are available at the forum. We had seventy-nine unique nominators choose 130 of their fellow author's works. So, let's all go grab a ballot and choose the authors we feel deserve those votes. You have until November 30, 2010 to get your ballot entered. Don't forget to send it to the Profiler's Choice CM Awards private message box. Ballots will NOT be accepted at either ilovetvalot or tonnie2001969 inboxes.**_

_**Anyone that chooses to assist us in publicizing the voting process for the 2010 Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards can also visit our profile pages. We have a blurb written to copy and paste to either your profile pages or author's notes if you choose. We truly appreciate all the assistance our fellow authors have given us and hope you will continue to support this venture.**_

_**Second, we'd like to encourage you all to take a look at our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange"! Sign-ups are simple and run through October 31, 2010. Participants can either PM us or join on the forum thread **__**telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

_**We also have a new discussion thread open for your comments called, "With Which Character Do You Most Identify and Why?" available at the forum as well as a great new interview with our fellow talented author Starofoberon. Please drop by and leave your thoughts.**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Nine**

Closing her eyes for a moment as she sat down on the edge of the corner desk, JJ tuned out the sounds around her, barely aware of the click of the closing doors and the rapidly fading voices of her teammates and friends. Biting the inside of her lip, she forced herself to take a deep breath as she tried to relax her shoulders from the tension that had threatened to overtake her.

_You can do this_, Jareau, she snapped mentally at herself, clenching her fist against the soft fabric of her trousers. _You've come farther now that you ever thought you would be. You owe it to Lacy…to Mama…to Daddy. You've got to hang on just a little bit longer and you'll find this bastard. Then you can stop him once and for all._

A faint scraping sound invaded her consciousness, and she looked up, slowly opening her eyes once again to face whatever the world had decided to throw in her direction. And the first eyes she saw were those of the man who had become her salvation….all those years ago and now, once again.

Blinking slowly, she realized that she and Dave were completely alone on the small room. Looking around, she asked, swallowing, "Where did Pen go? I thought she was going to…"

"She's taking a short break, Jen," Dave replied smoothly, interrupting her hoarse words as he reached out for her, wrapping his arm around her thin shoulders. "I thought you could use a moment alone before everyone returned with all of the newest information."

Allowing herself a rare moment of weakness, JJ leaned her head back against his shoulder as her eyes found the small monitor that had been recording Billy Martell's movements all day. "Dave, do you think we're wasting our time here?" she asked slowly, nodding at the small screen. "I mean, all we've seen all day is a day in the life of a small town newspaperman...nothing that would lead us to the unsub."

"We don't know that, Jen," Dave returned evenly, stroking his fingers down her stiff arms. "If you're asking if I think the unsub will make a move tonight...I don't know. Maybe. But I do believe it's possible that we caught the sicko on tape today. And the more we watch Billy, the better chance we have of spotting him. Especially if he keeps spouting the party line."

"I heard Hotch tell Ziva to take the story he wanted fed to the paper over to the office this afternoon," JJ sighed, her mind imagining the responses that could occur to that special story.

"Yeah, that little article might grab his attention," Dave smirked, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Inches away from catching him though, Dave? Are we sure that we're not goading him into a crime spree?" JJ worried.

"Babe, at this point, we need to up the ante. We're going nowhere fast. This is the best way any of us can think of..."

"And you think he'll come at Billy?" JJ asked, interrupting his words as she blinked rapidly.

"Directly, no," Dave said slowly. "But one of these people," Dave said, tapping the glass monitor where an image of Billy at the movies with his fiancée recorded, "isn't gonna be able to mask their anger forever. That's when we'll get him."

"I hope you're right," JJ muttered, not quite as confident as the rest of her team. How could she be, she asked herself. How could she risk someone else, allow someone else to possibly experience the same horrors that she herself had suffered.

"Stay positive, Jen," Dave urged, his warm breath fanning her temple. "We're going to catch him."

"I keep hearing you guys say that," JJ said doubtfully, her shoulders drooping slightly, the emotional weight seeming to grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment.

"Because it's true," Dave said, pressing a kiss to her jaw line. "Trust us, JJ."

"I do, Dave," she sighed, turning in his arms, letting herself sink against his warm strength. "But we've stuck like glue to this stupid computer screen all day and I don't feel like it served any purpose at all. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, did you?"

"Not at first glance," Dave agreed. "But we've got to give the plan time to work."

"We've been at this for over a dozen hours," JJ argued, scrubbing a hand across her forehead, her thoughts jumbling in her mind.

"And that's why I wanted to take you back to the apartment over two hours ago. You need to step away from all this, babe," Dave urged, wrapping his hands around her hips and tugging her closer to him.

"Everyone else is still here, Dave," JJ argued tiredly, although her body agreed that his words held a ring of wisdom.

"Everyone else isn't as emotionally invested in this case as you are...they have some distance from it. YOU lived it, JJ. And as much as you try to deny it, I know you're worn down. C'mon, we could pick up some take out from the diner...or better yet, we could drive over to Ralston and have supper in an actual restaurant."

"While everybody else eats Mo's greasy cooking?" JJ asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Doesn't seem very fair to me, Rossi."

"I'm not particularly worried about what's fair, Jen. I'm more concerned with taking some of that hopelessness out of your eyes. Some real food and a change of scenery will do you good. And it'll only be for an hour, tops."

She couldn't deny that he made a persuasive argument. As much as she loved her old hometown, civilization with a Starbucks was calling her name. "We could bring back some real coffee for the team," she said uncertainly, trying to justify the trip to herself.

"Absolutely, we could," Dave agreed readily, heart thumping as he watched her stony resolve weaken. She need this...a brief respite away from the madness consuming her life. Hell, he needed this. Just a few minutes stolen for the two of them...doing something normal...something you could find any normal couple in America doing. "Jen?" he prodded, squeezing her hips gently. "Is that a yes that I see in those baby blues?"

Lips tilting slightly, JJ cocked her head. "I suppose so," she said, glancing toward the small monitor. "Watching Billy watch a movie at the local theater isn't exactly rocket science, is it?"

"Nope," Dave winked. "I'm pretty sure even DiNozzo can handle it."

Laughing at his mention of the enthusiastic movie quoting NCIS agent, JJ nodded. "Let's do it. Maybe it'll give us both a whole new perspective."

"Now that," Dave murmured, leaning forward to claim her lips, "sounds like a wonderful plan."


	141. Chapter 140

_**Author's Note: Hello fellow readers and authors!**_

_**FINAL VOTING BALLOT IS NOW AVAILABLE for the first ever ff. net based 2010 Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. To vote, you can access the forum through either my (ilovetvalot) or tonnie2001969's profile pages. Details, rules and the voting ballot are available at the forum. Please read the rules first…we want your vote to be counted, so please follow the rules!**_

_**Want to help publicize the awards? Check out our profile pages for a blurb you can copy and paste to your profile pages and author's notes. We truly appreciate all the assistance our fellow authors have given us and hope you will continue to support this venture.**_

_**Take a look at our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange"! Sign-ups are simple and run through October 31, 2010. Check out the details on the forum...sign-ups are simple and run through October 31, 2010. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

_**Looking for a prompt to whet your writing whistle? Our newest Friday Fortune Cookie Prompt is now up at the forum….and this week's suggestion was made by celticstarwolf, so be sure to check it out!**_

_**Ever wondered how other authors and readers feel about their favorite characters on our favorite show? Visit the forum to check out our new discussion thread open for your comments -"With Which Character Do You Most Identify and Why?" And while you're perusing the posts, check out our newest interviews with fellow authors mabelreid, Lizzie2010, HansonFanGermany, and Lawson227!**_

_**Thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories! We think you're all awesome! And now…on to our story!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty**

Sighing as she dumped an armload of files on the battered wooden table, Abby Scuito wrinkled her nose in distaste. Tilting her raven head to the side, she muttered underneath her breath, "Honestly, even Podunk deserves better record keeping than the old pencil and paper method!"

A gruff voice sounded from behind her just then. "Don't knock old school, Abbs. Saved my six many times over the years."

Twirling on her toes, Abby grinned widely as she faced her favorite person. "That's because you are the epitome of old school, my silver haired fox." Her grin faltered for a moment as she quickly analyzed the heavy wrinkles bracketing his eyes. "Something else happened that I need to know about, Bossman?"

Swigging from his ever-present cup of coffee, Jethro Gibbs shook his head. "Nope. Hurry up and wait."

"And we all know how you feel about that particular method of detectiving, don't we?" Abby quipped as she plopped down in the nearest chair. Watching as her impossibly short skirt flounced around her tights-covered legs, Gibbs forced himself to remember exactly why he had come in search of his favorite laboratory genius. Gesturing toward the stack of files with his Styrofoam cup, he asked, "Any chance there's a clue in one of those files that will help?"

"This heap o' detritus is an Albatross around my swanlike neck, Gibbs," Abby snorted, shaking her head, dog ears bouncing wildly. "I've catalogued every piece of paper from that so-called editor's so-called office. And let me tell you, my Gibber, the man obviously has never ever heard of a shredder! There's even a receipt from 1998! The man was a cheapskate, then, too!"

"That's not an answer, Abs," Gibbs pointed out patiently, nodding toward the mound of manila folders.

"It's all I can tell you right now, Gibbs," Abby replied pertly, one hand dropping to the studded belt draped across her hips. "Did you SEE how much crap Tony and Ziva dumped on my desk? Do you have any idea how long it takes to scan that stuff into our system. Even with Garcia and me working double time, we're still only halfway through it and we haven't gotten a single ping yet."

"Draft that BAU Brainiac into helping you," Gibbs suggested, tilting his head back toward the closed door. "An egghead like that ought to get a kick out of this."

"You mean Reid?" Abby sighed dramatically as she arched her brows. "I...uhmm...I'm pretty sure he might be terrified of me. I'm not sure if it's the collar," she said, tugging at the leather around her neck, "or the tats, but either way, I think the guy is a little uncomfortable around me."

"Abby, the guy chases serial killers for a living. I think he can handle a little Goth in his diet. I adapted, didn't I?" Gibbs asked, his lips quirking faintly.

"Ah, but I took a special interest bringing you around to the more unique aspects of the lifestyle. I don't that kind of time for Dr. Reid," Abby grinned mischievously.

"Want me to talk to him?" Gibbs offered, his eyes twinkling as she popped down on the desk, her legs swinging back and forth.

"And instead of merely being terrified, he can add petrified to the list? No thanks," Abby laughed, shaking her head. "I'll bring him around myself. But, honestly, you could give me ten Dr. Reids and this," she said, gesturing toward the mess on the table, "is still going to take some time."

"Time isn't on our side, Abs," Gibbs stated heavily, draining the last sip from his coffee cup. "This guy is gonna make a move soon; I can feel it in my gut."

"Then," Abby said, noting the dark circles underneath her best friend's eyes, "that means, I need to get busy."

**/***/**

_Smiling in the shadowy night, he watched the familiar black Honda pull in front of the darkened clapboard house, trailed by a black SUV. _

_G-men...so predictable, even in their vehicle choice._

_She stepped out of the car and he caught her smile in the moonlight. She looked so happy...carefree...unaware of the nightmare that was about to commence for her. Yes, Amanda Ferris was going to make a nice trophy for him. And his kill would fulfill two needs...satisfying that darkness welling inside him and sending a clear reminder to Billy Martell._

_The man never should have crossed him. He might have allowed her to live otherwise._

_Maybe...actually, probably not. That golden hair reminded him too much of his Jennifer to have let the opportunity pass him by._

_Ah, wasn't that sweet. The lovers were sharing a kiss goodnight. Their final kiss._

_Enjoy it, Billy Boy...it shall be the last you taste from her ruby red lips, his mind whispered excitedly. Take your time...once you and your bodyguards leave, I'll have an entire evening to enjoy dear Amanda's company, uninterrupted._

_This kill won't be hurried. I won't have to rush through my work like the last time. There's no time schedule tonight._

_Just me and my instruments, he thought happily, fingering the black leather bag at his feet._

_Smiling, he glanced around from his position in the brush. She had the perfect home...secluded, not a neighbor for a mile. There'd be no one to hear those horrified screams that he knew she'd make. Until she didn't anymore...until he paralyzed those beautiful vocal cords, rendering her incapable of movement, but still allowing him to see that moment of grim acceptance when her alert mind realized death was imminent._

_God, that was the moment he waited for each and every time. That brief flash of time when he felt like the one, true God, life or continued existence his decision._

_His fingers tingled as he bit his lip, savoring the knowledge that in a few brief minutes, she'd be all his._

_Barely containing his excitement as he hunched behind the towering oak on the perimeter of her property, he watched as Martell slowly offered his Amanda one last chaste kiss and walked back to his car. His slamming car door heralded his departure and seconds later Amanda stood on her wooden porch watching the tail lights of two departing vehicles travel down the gravel road, her hand lifted in a final farewell._

_And inhaling the crisp night air, he lifted his head toward the full moon and smiled._

_The kill was afoot._


	142. Chapter 141

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Just a couple of notes today -**

**Letters containing the assignments for our first-ever Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange have been released. Please, if you signed up, check your mail, guys - they're there! We can't wait to read the fabulous stories this challenge generates! You have until December 25 to post your stories!**

**Also, friends, don't forget to vote in "The Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards" headquartered at the forum as well (it can also be reached thru my profile page or tonnie2001969 profile page if you choose). We've had a phenomenal response so far, but we want each one of you to be heard thru your vote. Voting ends on November 30th and details can be found at the forum.**

**New interviews are posted on "Chit Chat" with our very talented co-authors: TheSecretCity, montez, jeffandjimmieschick, and Spark Shark. Check them as well as several of our other nominees out. We'll be adding more as we draw closer to the end of the awards!**

**Thanks to everyone that continues to read, review alert and favorite...we truly appreciate each one of you!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Forty-One**

Shifting in the leather bucket seat of their FBI-issued SUV, JJ stared out the thick windshield into the inky night. The headlights of the SUV illuminated the otherwise blackened country road, the necessity of streetlights not a strong priority in the western Pennsylvanian county. With each passing revolution of the tires, she began to feel as if they were once again traveling into the unknown, the darkness insidiously concealing clues and evidence that might prove most enlightening.

It seemed like her entire life was shrouded in inky blackness, her every move weighted down by the unbearable shadows.

Hearing that impatient sigh once again leave her lips, Dave barely stopped a matching sound from escaping his own throat. The last two hours had been a reprieve for both of them, their focus allowed to shift to something other than the horrors that had been overtaking their lives for the past week. For the entire dinner at the upscale restaurant, he had been his charming best, drawing her out of her self-imposed protective shell with stories of his early days in the Bureau until she had actually began to smile and laugh at his anecdotes.

But the spell had been short-lived.

The moment they had settled back into the SUV, take out containers for her father and Gibbs Senior tucked safely in the back seat, her demeanor had changed, the dimness once again settling around her delicate features. With each mile they had travelled, her worries had become more apparent, their earlier reprieve a distant memory as they once again travelled back to her home town.

Squeezing her fingers, noticing suddenly how cold they had become, Dave glanced across the small cab of the vehicle. The dash lights bounced off her all-too-pale face, seeming to highlight the pinched lines around her lips and eyes. "Jen, babe, you've got to relax."

"I am relaxed," JJ objected, her eyes straight ahead, her focus on the yellow line marking the center of the rapidly passing road.

"I don't need to be a profiler to see through that lie," Dave grunted, shifting their joined hands to settle against his thigh.

Frowning, JJ shook her head. "I don't know what you expect from me," she replied defensively, her throat suddenly uncommonly tight. "I'm trying here, Dave. Really trying," she ground out.

"All I expect you to do is be honest with me, Jen. Telling you to relax wasn't a jab at you, cara," he said, his eyes on the unfamiliar road ahead of them. "And I realize it's hard..."

"Then why do you keep telling me to do it then?" JJ retorted impatiently, her shoulders stiffening. "You know it's impossible. Somewhere out there," she said, lifting her free hand to gesture out the windshield, "is a psychopath that wants nothing more than to carve me up like a Christmas turkey. And he's not afraid to go through as many people as necessary to accomplish that goal. Everyone I know...everyone I care about...everyone I love is in danger because of me, Rossi. Relaxing isn't exactly on the menu anymore."

Hearing her voice escalate, gaining volume with every word, Dave inwardly winced. As usual, he'd opened his mouth and crammed his foot down it. And normally, that wouldn't bother him. But, JJ was fragile now...as fragile as he'd ever seen her in all the years he'd known her. Pushing her now would be a mistake and he knew it. "I'm sorry, Jen," he said softly, squeezing the fingers he held in his hand gently.

Squeezing her eyes shut as tears threatened, JJ inhaled deeply. Why the hell was she striking out at him? The one man that had done and continued to do everything in his power to keep her safe? He'd taken her out for a perfectly lovely dinner...made her forget for a few brief moments that she didn't wear a big red X on her back. He'd helped her feel normal again. And above all, he'd assured her with every touch...every smile...that she wasn't alone. That she was loved.

By him.

"No," she said softly, her slender hand gripping his tightly, "I'm the one that's sorry. None of this is your fault. I'm acting like a shrew and you don't deserve it."

"Stop that," Dave chastened her, his thumb sweeping against the soft skin of her hand, "that's the woman I love you're talking about."

"Boy, did you get cheated," JJ muttered, casting her eyes downward.

"Now, you're determined to make me angry," Dave replied deeply, taking his eyes of the road long enough to shoot her a quelling stare.

"Sorry," JJ murmured on a sigh, dropping her head back against the seat. "I guess this day is catching up with me."

"You'd better hope that's all it is," Dave grumbled. "Cheated, my ass. I finally got the jackpot." Hearing her soft laugh, his heart tightened. "But I do think this day has worn you out. We need to get a couple of hours sleep, Jen."

"No," JJ protested automatically. "Everyone else..."

"...will take shifts and sleep," Dave cut her off. "Just like you're going to," he stated determinedly as his phone rang.

Her eyes automatically dropped to the center console, the display of the phone now illuminated. "It's Hotch," she said tightly, reaching for the phone.

He could sense the palpable tension emanating from her stiffened body. Stilling her movement toward the ringing phone with one hand as he pulled smoothly onto the shoulder of the road, Dave shook his head. "He's probably just calling us with an update, Bella," he said calmly, grabbing the phone before her nimble fingers could catch it. Of course, he didn't believe the words he was spouting...and neither did she. There was no way Hotch would have interrupted this rare opportunity for JJ to unwind if there wasn't trouble.

And they both were aware of that simple fact.

Stomach clenching, Dave forced himself to give JJ a reassuring smile as he pushed the green button on his phone, opening the connection.

And with a confidence he was nowhere close to feeling, he gruffly answered, "Rossi."


	143. Chapter 142

_**Author's Note: Hello, wonderful readers. I hope everyone in the good ole US of A remembered to adjust their clocks for daylight savings time. (I didn't). At any rate, we have just a few announcements for everyone today.**_

_**First, please remember to try and spare a few moments over the upcoming three weeks and VOTE for your favorite authors and stories in the "Profiler's Choice Awards" at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. You have through the end of November 30, 2010 to let your vote be heard and we want to hear from each one of you. If you don't know much about forums, links can be found through either my profile (ilovetvalot) or my awesome co-author (tonnie2001969). Remember, anyone that wants to help advertise the awards has our unending gratitude and there is also a short blurb you can use on our profile pages.**_

_**Second, we also have a new fortune cookie prompt for you at the forum compliments of our "Fortune Cookie Friday post (Sorry, we forgot to advertise it yesterday). And we also have great new interviews with several of our nominees. Today, we are "getting to know" the following: -Sweetheart.X, LostinOblivion, MissAmieB, nebula2 and JazziePerson. More interviews are coming soon!**_

_**Many thanks to everyone still reading these stories. We really appreciate you. Now, on with the show!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Two**

Aaron Hotchner rubbed his tired eyes as he reached for the phone, dialing the familiar number with alacrity. As much as he hated ruining the moment of normalcy JJ and Dave were trying to find in the sea of disillusions surrounding them all, the call couldn't wait.

"Rossi," he heard his friend's rough voice answer, a faint whine filling the background, tires rolling against asphalt.

"Dave," Aaron greeted tersely, no small talk filling his time, meeting Emily's eyes across the precinct and motioning toward the door. "Our unsub has made a play."

"For Martell?" Dave asked, reaching across the SUV's console and grasping JJ's chilled hand in his as he attempted to make quick sense out of the newest piece of information.

"No. For Martell's fiancée. Luckily, she had a security system installed in her home. It scared him off," Hotch explained, fishing his keys out of his pocket as he stepped out into the cold night, Emily close behind him. "We're on our way now."

"Have we dropped a net over the area?" Dave asked briskly, his eyes narrowing in concentration as his foot pressed considerably heavier against the accelerator, the speedometer registering the increased pace.

"All available units are heading that direction now," Hotch replied, climbing into the driver's seat of his vehicle as Emily quickly jogged around to the passenger's side. "We're approximately fifteen minutes out. Garcia is sending coordinates to JJ's phone now."

"Gimmee your phone, Jen," Dave whispered to the pale woman beside him, his own phone still pressed tightly to his ear, scrunched between his ear and his shoulder. "Has first on seen arrived yet, Hotch?" he asked as JJ handed over her Blackberry with a trembling hand.

"Not yet. Amanda is still online with EMS. The alarms are still going off but she said he hasn't tried to breach a second time," Hotch replied, pulling out onto the main road as Emily fastened her seat belt beside him. "Deputy Fortner has radioed in. She's closest. She'd already gone home for the evening...about three miles away."

"Is Jason with her?" Dave asked gruffly, his capable fingers quickly programming the GPS of the SUV before he pressed the speaker button on his phone and dropped it onto the console.

"Negative," Hotch shook his head, navigating a winding curve with one hand as he pressed the phone to his ear. "They'd separated for the night. Gideon had already gone back to the hotel with Reid. Everyone is in transit."

"She shouldn't approach alone, Aaron," Dave replied sharply. "This unsub is unpredictable at best and he'll take an opportunity if it presents itself. A lone woman approaching will be like a waving a red flag at a bull. He's already going to be devolving because his kill was interrupted."

"Who shouldn't approach alone?" JJ asked, whispering violently as she watched Dave's face tighten, his hands tightening around the steering wheel as he pulled back on the road, accelerating quickly.

"Deputy Fortner is a trained cop, Dave," Hotch reminded the other man, his lips tightening as he considered the possibilities. "And she's closest," Hotch added as Emily mouthed, "Two minutes out."

"Tell her to hang back, Aaron," Rossi urged, shaking his dark head, well aware of JJ's suddenly tiffening shoulders as she realized exactly how close her long-time friend was going to be to the man that had been attempting to kill her for years. "I've got a feeling..."

"Get Fortner on the line," Hotch said, looking at Emily, the dimness of his vehicle casting her pale face in shadows. "I'm on it, Dave."

XXX

Scrubbing a hand across her gritty eyes, Anne Fortner silently cursed. Why hadn't any of them thought about Amanda? They'd all just assumed that their perpetrator would vent his anger on Billy...no one even had considered the possibility that he'd use Amanda to do it. And because of their lack of advance planning, they had obviously lost valuable time and missed potential clues that could have brought them closer to resolution.

Starting her Land Rover with a twist of her wrist, Anne shoved her red hair behind her head. Please God, let that sweet woman be okay, she prayed fervently, flicking her headlights on and backing up smoothly onto the deserted road.

Driving quickly toward Amanda's house, her thoughts raced. Dropping her hand to her waist, she felt her gun at her side. It was a given that she'd be first on scene, her home only mere moments from the cheerful school teacher Billy Martell was set to marry in May. She let out a deep sigh as she remembered the wedding shower she had attended just two weeks prior. Stiffening her shoulders, she forced her thoughts to return to the present…to remember that she was a trained officer and not a friend right now. She had to remain focused.

Hearing her cell phone ring, Anne reached for it absently, flipping it open and snapping out a greeting, "Deputy Fortner."

"Anne?" Jason Gideon's worried voice asked, the connection slightly scratchy. "Where are you?"

"About two minutes from Amanda's house," Anne replied briskly, frowning as she heard Jason's sharp intake of breath.

"Stop," he demanded with steel lining his voice. "Wait for back-up. Reid and I are about five minutes out."

"Are you crazy?" Anne snorted, her shoulders stiffening in preparation for fight. "Amanda might not have that long. She's unarmed and alone, Jason."

"Anne, it wasn't a request, it was an order," Gideon demanded. "Pull over and wait for assistance."

"I'm perfectly qualified to secure the scene," Anna snapped, her lips tightening at the perceived slight to her capabilities.

"Damn it, Anne! This isn't the time for a pissing contest!" Jason growled, his own hand tightening around the cell phone pressed to his ear.

"I'm not going to..." Anne began as headlights suddenly blinded her. Swerving as the oncoming vehicle in the opposite lane veered toward her, a scream lodged in her throat as her car careened into a tree.

"Anne?" Jason yelled as he heard the collision, her strangled voice fading off into nothingness, "Anne! Talk to me! Anne!"

"What's happening?" Reid yelped from the passenger seat.

"Crash," Gideon spared a moment to bite out, his heart racing rapidly and slamming against his sternum. "Anne, answer me!" he yelled frantically as Reid furiously dialed his own phone. Listening closely as his heart thudded painfully in his chest, he released the breath he'd been holding as he heard an audible moan emanating from the phone.

Opening her eyes as she lifted a hand to her bleeding head, Anne groaned again as she felt the steering wheel press against her stomach. "J-Jason?" she said weakly, wondering for a moment how his voice was filling her car when she couldn't even see him.

"Anne? Honey, say something," he demanded harshly, his foot pressing the accelerator to the floorboard, the revving engine responding immediately.

"Oh my God," Anne breathed as her car door was jerked open and a masked face leaned inside. Automatically reaching for her gun, her shoulder screaming with the effort, she felt her palm covered with a gloved hand.

"Ah, ah, ah," a familiar voice chided in an almost humorous tone. "Don't think so," the man said, ripping Anne's service weapon from her side as her hand was wrenched to the side.

"It's you," Anne whimpered, fear clawing its way up her throat, terror paralyzing her as she held her phone in one limp hand. She might not be able to see him...but she knew. Somehow, her addled mind was piecing together jumbled pictures from the past few weeks…and coming up with a final photo that was of the devil himself.

"My night just got a whole lot better," the unknown person whispered, reaching for her phone with one hand. "And who are we talking to?" he asked almost gallantly, glancing at the display before grinning widely, his white teeth gleaming through the mask's mouth hole.

Lifting the phone to his ear, the masked man heard Jason yell, "It's who, Anne? Sweetheart! Anne!"

"Anne can't talk right now," he said, keeping his voice low and polite, with just enough roughness to keep him from being immediately recognized.

"Who is this?" Gideon barked, his whole body going rigid at the masculine voice on the other end of the line.

"Now, that would just be telling wouldn't it? But, I promise you, Agent Gideon, I'll savor this kill. I'll even give you three days to do what you never accomplished twenty-five years ago before I kill her," the unsub offered sinisterly, his voice deepening as he reached out and tapped a proprietary finger against Anne's cheek.

"Don't you touch her," Gideon growled, his worst fear confirmed as he realized that the very person he had been hunting for a quarter of a decade had now found a new victim. And this wasn't just any victim…this was a Anne…his Anne.

"Stop me," the unsub spat before disconnecting, the phone flying through the air and landing with a thud on the broken asphalt in the midnight darkness.


	144. Chapter 143

_**Author's Note: Hello, wonderful readers. At any rate, we have just a few announcements for everyone today.**_

_**IMPORTANT: WE HAVE 15 DAYS LEFT TO VOTE! LET'S ALL GET MOTIVATED!**_

_**First, please remember to try and spare a few moments over the upcoming three weeks and VOTE for your favorite authors and stories in the "Profiler's Choice Awards" at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. You have through the end of November 30, 2010 to let your vote be heard and we want to hear from each one of you. If you don't know much about forums, links can be found through either my profile (ilovetvalot) or my awesome co-author (tonnie2001969). Remember, anyone that wants to help advertise the awards has our unending gratitude and there is also a short blurb you can use on our profile pages.**_

_**Thank you to everyone taking the time to vote and avertise for us. We appreciate each and every one of you. The responses are starting to roll in and we have a tight race running in several categories. Let your opinion be heard.**_

_**Second, we also have great new interviews with several of our nominees. Today, we are "getting to know" the following: b-mystique, Nagen66, Monkeywand, and Hidge. More interviews are coming soon!**_

_**Many thanks to everyone still reading these stories. We really appreciate you. Now, on with the show!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Three**

The flashing lights could be seen from a mile away. Red and blue, garishly bright in the black night. As Jason Gideon knelt beside the crashed vehicle, a mass of twisted metal now propped against a towering oak tree, he closed his eyes, holding Anne's fractured cell phone in his cold hand.

_He_ had her.

The bastard who had exacted a twenty-five year reign of terror had Deputy Anne Fortner. Jason's coldly clinical mind knew that of all the individuals the unsub could have taken, she had a much better chance of survival, her skill and training making her more adept at maneuvering the psychopath. Yeah, right, the human side of him taunted in growing depression. That might have been true before she'd been trapped in this hunk of metal. Now, if the blood on the steering wheel was any indication, she was injured. Hurt, God only knew how badly. And that was before the son of a bitch had laid a hand on her.

Who knew what the psycho was doing now?

Inhaling a shaky breath, he heard her pained realization play through his mind again.

_"It's you," she'd said, her voice filled with anguish._

Anne had known their unsub. Somehow, whether she'd seen his face or recognized his voice, she'd known. And that made her situation even more tenuous. They were not dealing with a complete unknown. Their unsub knew them…but they didn't know him.

"We've got roadblocks set up at three mile intervals in every direction, Jason," he heard Reid's soft voice say behind him, the words sinking through his darkened thoughts.

"Won't matter," Gideon shook his head, slowly rising back to his feet as he looked around the crime scene. "He'll have planned for that. The unsub has been in the area long enough to be considered a local. If there's a dirt or gravel road...any avenue will be known to him and he'll take it. This is a rural area," he said, gesturing around them, his hand flicking through the darkness. "He'll go off the beaten path. He's got a base of operations apart from the place he resides. He'll take her there."

"Lots of hunting cabins and caverns in these parts," Gibbs nodded, his eyes scanning the tree line as he stepped closer to the vehicle. "He'd have planned for this, wouldn't he?"

"He'd need a place to take his ultimate target," Gideon confirmed quietly, reluctant to name JJ as that very supposed victim. The entire team knew the unsub's ultimate plan, and none of them could stomach the thought of saying it aloud. Not even him. Not even now. "That's where he's got Anne."

Joining the group, Hotch's keen eyes raked Jason Gideon. Pale, but functional, the elder man was doing a convincing job at holding himself together. But, he, better than most knew what that was costing his old friend. Much like his final case with Frank...this was going to haunt the other man, especially if they couldn't find Anne Fortner alive. Between Jason and JJ, this kidnapping had the power to cripple two of his team...his family, and that wasn't a thought Aaron Hotchner could allow himself to dwell on too long. "Dave and JJ will be here in five," he reported quietly without glancing down at this watch. "I want the entire team to convene at the police station. We're going to find her, Jason," Hotch assured the older man firmly.

Looking back at the crushed vehicle, Gideon swallowed, whispering. "Oh, I know that, Hotch. I just hope we can find her alive," he said, striding away from the gathered men before emotion overwhelmed him.

He had three days to find the woman he'd only just realized had managed to rejuvenate a decaying heart.

XXX

She tried to bite back a moan as she turned over on the dirt floor beneath her. There was no sense allowing that bastard to know how badly she hurt. Grimly, she acknowledged that information would only offer the son of a bitch more power, feeding his already overblown ego. And there was no way in hell that she was going to do that.

He'd already made it clear that she was the perfect trophy, second only to his coveted prize.

Hissing in a breath as she tried to move her broken arm, Anne blinked in the darkness. Inky blackness surrounded her, threatening for a moment to overwhelm her, to swallow her whole.

Stay calm, she ordered herself. Jason will find you.

Jason? Since when had her psyche associated him with being her savior, she asked herself, forcing herself to inhale deeply.

Get real, Anne. You started doing that the moment he touched you. And you've dreamed of his arms around you every night since.

Silently condemning the voice in her head to the depths of hell, Anne squeezed her eyes shut, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. It was true, she admitted to herself. Somewhere during this insanity, she'd allowed herself to fall in love for the second time in her life...with the absolute wrong man. Again. And now she realized that she might never have a chance to see him again.

Inhaling deeply as she tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere...anywhere other than on the current pain radiating throughout her body and the unbidden images of the taciturn, complicated man that she'd stupidly allowed herself to feel something for...her overwrought mind registered the smell of wet earth. Dank...musty earth.

Eyes popping open, her mind processed that fact. She wasn't in a coffin. She had room to roll from side to side...

And if she wasn't confined to a pine box...she was in a cellar! Okay, a cellar she could work with, she told herself as she struggled to sit up. A cellar had a door. And a door would lead to freedom.

Bumping her head against the ceiling, Anne blinked. "Okay," she whispered, "Maybe it's more of a crawl space. But there still has to be a way out," she muttered, lifting her mostly uninjured arm to feel above her, searching for any crack in the surface as she scooted along the ground with painstaking slowness, every movement costing her precious energy.

You can't stop trying, Anne. The second you do, that bastard wins. And since you already allowed yourself to be massively fooled by him once, letting him kill you would be a really kick in the teeth. Now is the time for YOU to be the one kicking.

Her back met the earthen wall behind her and she tiredly dropped her arm. Just catch your breath, Anne, and try again. You can do it, her mind cheered in a determined attempt at self-preservation.

Yeah, right, she mentally snorted, allowing her eyes to close for a moment as she fought the waves of weakness sliding over her.

She wasn't sure if seconds, minutes or hours passed, but suddenly, footsteps above her head pierced the haze her mind had become. And a moment later, a trap door above was thrown back and a hand buried in her long hair, wrenching her upward.


	145. Chapter 144

**Author's Note: My co-author and I would like to announce that our core stories (Sunday and Monday weekly publications) will be on hiatus for the weekend after Thanksgiving (an American Holiday on November 25, 2010). Due to familial obligations, we do believe there will be a week break on those ongoing stories. We will continue to publish one-shots and shorter stories through the holiday week.**

**Also, we're drawing near the close of our first annual Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards. WE CURRENTLY HAVE EIGHT DAYS LEFT TO VOTE FOR OUR FAVORITE AUTHORS AND STORIES. Please remember to try and spare a few moments over the upcoming days and VOTE for your favorite authors and stories in the "Profiler's Choice Awards" at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. You have through the end of November 30, 2010 to let your voice and vote be heard, and we want to hear from each one of you. If you don't know much about forums, links can be found through either my profile (ilovetvalot) or my awesome co-author (tonnie2001969). Remember, anyone that wants to help advertise the awards has our unending gratitude, and there is also a short blurb you can use on our profile pages.**

**We also want to take a moment and remind all those participants that have signed up for the Criminal Minds Christmas Fic Gift Exchange that we have just over a month to complete our gifts and publish them for our recipients. If anyone has any questions, please contact us via private message.**

**And finally, we'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their continued support of our stories. We truly appreciate each review, favorite, alert and private message. It means a lot to us. Please let us continue to hear from each of you!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four**

She stared out the windshield with dull eyes.

This had been her worst fear...that he'd take someone else she cared about. That she'd contaminate her friends' lives with this evil that wanted her.

And now he had Anne.

Closing her eyes, her battered mind drifted back to the two teenage girls they'd once been. Happy. Carefree. While she'd always known that the wickedness of a demented mind could lurk in the shadows, Anne had been freer, unencumbered by a dark past.

And Anne had lived life to the fullest. And made JJ live right along with her. Sometimes kicking and screaming, Anne had forced her into the light. She'd coaxed JJ with gentle teasing and sometimes downright bullying into facing the future.

Anne was a good person. A person that didn't deserve the malevolent psycho that had been thrust into her life by her. By her supposedly one-time best friend.

She knew that the man that had Anne would punish the police officer for the misfortune of being her friend. He'd make her suffer horribly. Just like Lacy. Swallowing hard against the bile rising in her throat, JJ tried to block thoughts of her sister, the pain too deep and raw. But the images were there. They were always there.

_"Don't let him hurt me, sissy," Lacy had begged, clutching JJ's arm with dirty hands in the cellar they'd been shoved into._

_"I won't. I won't let him hurt you, Lace. Shhh," she'd said with the bravado of a little girl when her sister had began to sob, wrapping her thin arm around the shivering girl. "I'll protect you."_

Except, she hadn't. She'd failed then. He'd come for her baby sister, taking her away. Those screams...those frantic grabs she'd made for Lacy...all of it...were permanently ingrained in her mind and soul.

Blinking rapidly as tears burning her eyes, JJ sank her teeth into her lower lip, desperately trying to stem the flood she knew was coming. Think, JJ. How can you stop him?

She knew the answer. There was only really one solution. The man beside her would never go for it. Hell, she doubted any of them would listen to her now. They'd equate her solution to the product of an overwhelmed mind. They'd say she was emotionally involved...that her impartiality had been compromised.

And, she supposed that they were right. It didn't get much more personal than this. Her mind, however, was made up.

The only way to stop him was to give him what he wanted.

Which was her...the one that had escaped him. The girl who had lived...survived to know the depths of his depravity firsthand. But, she'd been marked to die twenty-five years ago. She'd been living on borrowed time.

And now, that time was up.

She could live with that. Especially if it meant that no one else had to die in her place.

The girl who lived was more than ready to die in order to save others.

**XXX**

"JJ?" Dave said, frowning as he pulled into the parking slot in front of the Sherriff's department. "JJ?" he called her again, his heart beating faster as she stared straight ahead, her eyes not focused. "Damn it, Jennifer!" he shouted, turning her face toward his, staring at her in the dim vehicle, willing her to respond. "Talk to me!"

He'd been afraid this was coming. This inevitable shutdown of her psyche, her father's concerns when the case had began echoing in his mind. "Sweetheart, don't do this to me," Dave murmured, grabbing her icy hands in his and rubbing them together.

Nothing in his life had ever caused his stomach to plummet the way her eerie silence had. "No," Dave shook his head, tightening his grip with one hand and shoving the armrest between them up and out of the way with the other. Hauling her unresisting body against him, Dave ran his hands down her back. "Not like this, Jen. He's trying to murder you without ever laying a finger on you," he ground out. "You will NOT let him to this to you...to us," he demanded, easing her back to stare into vacant eyes.

God, he prayed, don't let me be forced to slap her. His stomach rebelled at the thought, no matter how required it might be at the moment. Shaking her slightly, he bit out, "Jennifer!"

She looked right through him, no recognition shining in those blue depths. Goddamn it! "You listen to me, Jareau," Dave growled, his grip around her tightening, "I'm not going to lose you, too." Lowering his head, he nipped her lower lip gently. Covering her lips, he felt her jerk in his arms as he kissed her. Gratified to hear the small, audible intake of breath as her lips parted, he delved inside her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers, pulling back a moment later to stare into her eyes.

Blinking rapidly, JJ returned Dave's stare. "D-dave?" she whispered hoarsely as she shuddered against him, her fingers clenching at his shirt.

"I'm here," he comforted. "I'm right here, Jen," he murmured against her hair, the sound of her shaking voice music to his ears. "Just keep talking to me for a minute."

The events of the last hour and a half flooded over her. "Oh God," she said as a sob caught in her throat. "It's all happening, isn't it? He's got Anne and it's all my fault," she cried, squeezing her eyes shut as she buried her head against the curve of his throat.

"Nothing is your fault here," Dave replied in a hard voice, burying one hand in her long hair and tilting her wet face up to his. "Do you hear me? NONE of it, Jen. We're going to get her back," he stated firmly.

Shaking her head, JJ whispered, "It is. He went after Anne to get to me. And if it hadn't been Anne, it would have someone else I knew and cared about..."

"Babe," Dave urged, trying to halt the words that he knew were coming, "that doesn't make it your fault."

"He's not going to stop. Not until he has me," JJ replied, her matter of fact tone filling each word.

Hearing the grim resignation in her voice, Dave felt a chill slide down his spine. "That isn't going to happen," he denied slowly, enunciating each word. "I'm not going to let that happen."

"I don't think you can stop him, Dave," JJ whispered, completely defeated. "Maybe it's time to give the bastard what he wants."


	146. Chapter 145

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Just a reminder, December 25th is right around the corner. Everyone that signed up for the CM Christmas Fic Exchange, please remember your stories. We want this to be a WONDERFUL gift experience for all involved. If you have any questions, feel free to pm either myself (ilovetvalot) or tonnie2001969.**_

_**In other forum news, please check out our newest discussion thread, "Serious vs. Light - Which gets the most response?" It is a discussion of serious vs light stories and the response they get from readers. We also have new interviews with Clarebones and musicxlife4 up for your reading pleasure.**_

_**Finally, if any of you have any idea for issues/activities that you'd like to see "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum tackle in the form of discussion threads and/or challenges, please let us know. We want to bring you all some really fun threads in the New Year!**_

_**As always, thank you to every reader, reviewer, favoriter, and alerter that enjoys our stories. Hearing from each of you means a great deal. Now, on with our story!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five**

Throwing himself behind the steering wheel of the stand black government issue SUV, Hotch glared out over the crime scene. Christ, he silently groaned, what a fucking nightmare!

Nothing. No evidence. Not one iota of a clue as to the identity of the unsub or the location where the son of a bitch was now holding a quasi member of his team. He'd looked. Hell, they all had. This bastard was once again three steps ahead of him...and this time he'd taken a hostage along for the ride.

Why the hell hadn't Anne listened to Gideon?

Fuck that, he thought grimly. Why the fuck hadn't he been the one that called her...she might have listened to him. She didn't perceive him as a threat to her way of life or her emotional well being. And he knew it. They all knew it. The entire team was aware of the romantic Russian Roulette…and now, the bullet had hit its mark with a deafening boom.

Squeezing his eyes shut as recriminations flooded him, he thumped a hand uselessly against the steering wheel. "Goddamn it!" he snarled, anger threatening to overwhelm him. Anger at the unsub. At himself. At Anne.

"Aaron," Emily said, keeping her voice low as she shifted in the seat beside him, "This isn't your fault," she said quietly, watching his tense face clench.

"I'm the Unit Chief, Emily. Ultimately, it's my responsibility," Hotch ground out, as close as he'd ever been to losing his temper completely. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath as he tried to gain control of his anger. Now was not the time to let his emotions overtake him…not when another life was at stake.

"She wasn't your agent," Emily denied, shaking her head, her long hair dragging against her shoulders.

"But she was...is my responsibility," Hotch countered harshly, wincing as he realized that now he was attacking Emily, the last person on earth he wanted to hurt. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice much lower as he lowered his head.

"It's okay," Emily soothed, reaching out to rest her hand on his stiff arm. If there was one thing on earth she knew about her new lover, it was that he took all his responsibilities seriously. The problem was, more often than not, things that he perceived as his responsibility weren't. "We're all under a lot of stress." Watching his profile, Emily squeezed his thigh gently. "We're going to get her back, Hotch. We will."

"God, I hope so, Em," Hotch replied hoarsely, staring at the steering wheel. "If we don't...I think this will break Jason," he whispered, shaking his head sadly as he recalled the shattered look on the older man's face when they'd pulled up to the scene. Not even Reid had been able to talk to him. "And JJ...," Hotch's voice trailed off. His media liaison had been reduced to a mere shell of the woman she'd previously been. And this latest move by the unsub...he was afraid that if something didn't happen soon, it would drive the fragile woman right over the edge. God knew what hell would break lose then. If Jason was hard to control, Rossi would be impossible, he thought darkly, his already rapidly devolving emotional control sliding even further into the abyss.

"Hey," Emily chided, reaching for the lapel of his jacket and tugging Hotch toward her, "Stop it. JJ is in shock, Aaron. The unsub...her dad...and now Anne...it's sort of expected that her circuits would overload. We both know that Dave will fight the Devil himself for her if he has to. And Gideon...," Emily swallowed, remembering vividly what she'd witnessed in the other man's haggard eyes, "I think Anne brought Gideon back to life, whether either of them wants to admit it. Yeah, it makes him more emotional, but it'll also lend to his drive...his determination to find her."

"I hope you're right, Emily," Hotch stated gravely, covering her hand with his and squeezing gently. "Watching my team fall apart at the seams is as close to hell as I care to get."

"We're not going to let our team fall apart," Emily countered sternly, tapping her finger against his skin against. "We're going to go back to the station, meet up with everyone and work a plan that makes sense," she told him. "But first, you're going to take a deep breath and relax. Just for a second," she demanded when he would have argued, her soft eyes meeting his.

Inhaling deeply, Hotch smiled faintly as he felt his chest start to loosen. "I think I like "take charge" Emily almost as much as I like sultry Emily," he murmured, lifting a hand to caress her cheek.

"Play your cards right, Agent Hotchner, and you might get to see them both at once when this is over," Emily promised throatily, leaning against his hand, knowing that the lines were quickly blurring between professional and personal. But at that moment, she knew that it was for the best...and that it might be the only thing that kept them all moving in a logical direction.

"Now, that definitely sounds like a plan I'd approve of," Hotch replied deeply, glancing out the windows. They were relatively secluded here, the remaining officers too busy with their assigned tasks to notice the two occupants of their darkened vehicle. "Come here," he urged huskily, coiling his hand in her long silken hair and pulling her toward him.

Smiling in the darkness, Emily sighed as his lips touched hers. Parting her lips eagerly, she met his tongue with her own. Lifting a hand she stroked his cheek gently as his mouth at hers, nibbling...tasting.

Groaning as his tongue twined with hers, Hotch reined in his lust and contented himself with the sweet taste of her kiss. Slanting his mouth over hers, he hungrily took what she gave him, sucking gently on her lower lip and tongue. He felt her hand cup his cheek, tenderness in her fingertips. Burying his hand in her hair, he tilted his head, desperate to lose himself for these few stolen moments.

Her kiss had restorative, healing power, he decided as he finally convinced himself to pull away, staring into her hazy gaze when she blinked up at him. "I think I needed that," he whispered, calmer now as she continued to slide her fingers against his jaw.

"That feeling is entirely too mutual, Agent Hotchner," Emily agreed, nipping his full lower lip again before pulling back to settle in the passenger seat. "Now, let's go. The sooner we find Anne and put this bastard behind bars, the sooner I can demonstrate how easily bossy and sultry go together," she winked.

And twisting the key in the ignition, Aaron hoped it could all really be that simple.


	147. Chapter 146

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hold on folks, this is a long note today! First, Tonnie and I would like to announce that signups for Chit Chat on Author's Corner's January Challenge-The Happy New Year's Challenge are open thru December 30, 2010. Simply swing by the forum (you can link to it thru our profile pages) and sign up with the pairing you'd like to see written and three prompts associated with the holiday. On Jan 1, 2011, you'll be assigned a random pairing (not the one you usually write) and three prompts to write by January 30.**_

_**Second, I have a question for my readers. I truly enjoyed last night's CM episode, "What Happens at Home" and the introduction of the character Agent Ashley Seaver. I intend to do some stories with her character incorporated into a pairing and I'd like to know who you guys would like to see me pair her with. I know the obvious choice is Reid, but what about Hotch or Rossi. Anybody that knows my work knows I'm a sucker for older man/younger woman pairings. So, shoot me a pm or review and let me know what you think. I think the world of you guys and value your opinions!**_

_**Just a reminder, December 25th is right around the corner. Everyone that signed up for the CM Christmas Fic Exchange, please remember your stories. We want this to be a WONDERFUL gift experience for all involved. If you have any questions, feel free to pm either myself (ilovetvalot) or tonnie2001969.**_

_**In other forum news, please check out our newest discussion thread, "Serious vs. Light - Which gets the most response?" It is a discussion of serious vs. light stories and the response they get from readers. We also have new interviews with Clarebones and musicxlife4 up for your reading pleasure.**_

_**Also please check out the discussion thread entitled, "The Fine Line Between T and M ratings". There's a great ongoing discussion there, too.**_

_**Finally, if any of you have any idea for issues/activities that you'd like to see "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum tackle in the form of discussion threads and/or challenges, please let us know. We want to bring you all some really fun threads in the New Year!**_

_**As always, thank you to every reader, reviewer, and person that favorites or alerts one of our stories. Hearing from each of you means a great deal to each of us. We truly value your thoughts and opinions. Now, on with our story!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six**

"She's done," Dave Rossi said to the filled table around him, his dark eyes flashing as he pushed up out of his seat. "I don't care what she comes in here and says, what she thinks she's decided, she's done contributing to this case," he continued, his voice lethally soft as his eyes bored into the face of each person encircling the scarred wooden table.

"Dave," Hotch murmured torn between doing what he knew was best for the fragile woman sitting beside Dave, looking like she might potentially become an unsub herself in the imminent future and doing what could potentially be the decisive move that would end the case.

"Don't you dare try to belittle me," JJ seethed from beside Rossi, her eyes flashing angrily as she clenched her fingers into tight fists. "Everyone here recognizes what you refuse to see. I'm the tool that could potentially be what catches this monster. You'd all be a fool not to use me," she said desperately, looking around the group.

"Half an hour ago, you couldn't even speak, JJ," Dave snapped, desperate to stop the woman he loved from making a potentially fatal move. "How the hell do you expect to fight off an attacker when you're fucking paralyzed, JJ!"

Eyes widening as he announced what had happened in the car, JJ's cheeks flushed. "You bastard," she whispered, hurt that he'd humiliate her in front of their team. "For a split second I needed to catch my breath and shut down..."

"There!" Dave said, latching onto her word, anxious to drive the point home for her and everyone there. "You just said it, damn it. You shut down, Jen."

"She's human, Rossi," Morgan growled, dutifully defending his shaking friend. Looking at JJ, he noted the way she fought to quell the tremble racking her. Dammit, why the hell had she been forced to face this once again?

"That's right," Dave agreed, nodding vigorously as he smacked his hand against the battered wooden table. "That's my whole fucking point. She IS human, Derek. She's a human that is willing to use herself as bait for a madman. She isn't thinking straight."

"My thinking is just fine," JJ ground out, stiffening. "I am not crazy!"

"No one here thinks that, JJ," Hotch said calmly, glaring at Dave as he mentally willed the older man to hold his tongue…just this once.

"She knows I don't think that," Dave growled, glaring back at Hotch. "Don't you?" he asked JJ deeply.

"What I know is that you're not impartial anymore. If I was anybody else, you'd do whatever it took to draw him out," JJ challenged, blinking back angry tears, her throat tightening with each word.

"Not if it meant potentially getting a former victim...his current obsession...killed," Dave retorted. "Babe, you aren't an agent now. Jennifer, you were frozen in the car. Maybe it was only for a few moments. But those few moments could cost you your life where this man is concerned. I can't allow that. And neither can any of you," he said, looking around the table.

Pressing her lips together, JJ looked quickly around the table for an ally. "Jason?" she whispered when her eyes landed on his tense face. "Tell him! Talk to him!"

Slowly focusing his pale eyes on her, he slowly shook his head. "No," he said simply.

"Jason, he has Anne!" JJ screamed, slamming her hands down on the table as she fought the rising pain in her chest. "We have to end this. We've got to draw him out! You all know that he's going to call and taunt us," she said, looking up the table at Hotch. "At least let me talk to him when he does. Give me at least that much of a chance," she begged.

"No!" Dave exploded. "You think goading him is gonna bring him walking through the station door?" Dave asked angrily, grabbing JJ's arm and pulling her around to face him. "You know better than that."

Narrowing her eyes, JJ scowled at the man that loved her. "Afraid you're getting a little too old to do the job you claim you're so good at?" she snarled.

"Yeah, Jen," Dave snorted as he nodded, disgust filling his voice. "That's exactly what I'm concerned about here. My fucking pride."

Ignoring him, JJ turned to look at Hotch and a newly arrived Gibbs. "You can protect me, Hotch. Monitor me. Track me, for God's sake! But we can't just sit here and make blind stabs about what he might do. For God's sake, be proactive!"

"Letting you commit suicide by unsub won't save Anne, JJ," Gibbs replied softly, his piercing gaze pinning JJ back into her seat.

"I'm not trying to commit suicide. I'm doing what any agent in my position would do," JJ denied vehemently, her shoulders ramrod straight. "I'm trying to work the damn case."

"How are you gonna work the case when you're frozen solid like you were in the car a half hour ago?" Dave retorted, his heart clenching as he watched Hotch's intense gaze narrow on JJ assessingly.

"We are running out of options, Dave," Hotch noted meaningfully, his words measured as he met the older profiler's gaze. "We need to at least consider the option JJ is offering us without judgment."

Turning horrified eyes toward Hotch, Emily spoke for the first time. "Hotch, what she's proposing is to let the unsub take her. Surely…"

"He won't kill me immediately," JJ interjected quickly, her heart beating faster as she realized at least one member of the team...perhaps the most important of all of them…believed in her.

"Wait!" Reid sputtered quickly, lifting a wavering hand. "JJ, you do realize that by giving him you, he has no reason to keep Anne alive. If we aren't as fast as you hope we'll be, he'll..."

"...Kill her," Gideon supplied starkly, his eyes haunted as he looked at JJ. "Is that a risk you're willing to take with her life?"

"Jason," JJ whispered, her words broken and halting. "Believe me," she said shakily, "He's going to kill her. You know that. My way, at least we have a chance of getting to her before he can."

"And a very real chance of losing you, too," Morgan interjected, his jaw clenching.

"It's a risk," JJ agreed, her tone heavy. "But it's a risk we have to take."

"Damn it," Dave exploded, his chair falling over as he surged to his feet once again. "Have you all lost your fucking minds? Are you even hearing what the fuck she wants to do? She wants to be a goddamn martyr. And you're all actually falling for it!"

"Dave, stop," JJ winced, trying to catch his hand and pull him back to the table.

"No," Dave spat, glaring at her. "You stop. You feel guilty. You feel responsible. But, Jen, you're NEITHER of those things! And for such a smart woman, you're acting like a fucking idiot. Do you know what happened to Joan of Arc at the end of the fucking battle, JJ? The burned the bitch on the stake! She died."

"Then make sure you're there to save me," JJ challenged determinedly, clenching her fingers around the cuff of his jacket.

Rising from his seat as he watched Dave grab JJ's hand, Hotch said steadily. "Two hours, people. We're going to take two hours and let cooler tempers prevail. Then we're going to meet back here and we're going implement a plan."

* * *

_A/N 2 - I just wanted our loyal readers to know that due to real life events (my husband is deploying to the war in Afghanistan earlier than anticipated), our stories' postings may be a little sporadic, especially our core. I hope you will be patient with me during this difficult time._

_Tracia_


	148. Chapter 147

_**Author's Note: First, I hope you guys enjoy this new story. It will be updated once a week. **_

_**We have a few announcements for year today. First, don't forget we have a new challenge open on the forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Sign-ups for our January challenge, "The Happy New Year's Challenge" is open through December 30, 2010. We'd love to have each one of you. **__**Simply swing by the forum (you can link to it thru our profile pages) and sign up with the pairing you'd like to see written and three prompts associated with the holiday. On Jan 1, 2011, you'll be assigned a random pairing (not the one you usually write) and three prompts to write by January 30.**_

_**And don't forget - those that signed up to complete the CM Christmas Fic Gift Exchange, you have exactly FIVE days left. Please PM me if you have any problems.**_

_**Finally, if any of you have any idea for issues/activities that you'd like to see "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum tackle in the form of discussion threads and/or challenges, please let us know. We want to bring you all some really fun threads in the New Year!**_

_**As always, thank you to every reader, reviewer, and person that favorites or alerts one of our stories. Hearing from each of you means a great deal to each of us. We truly value your thoughts and opinions. Now, on with our story!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven**

Dave slammed the door to the borrowed apartment with enough force to rattle the windows.

Raising an eyebrow as she watched him throw his coat violently toward the sofa, JJ asked softly, her words tight on her tongue, "Did that help?"

"Don't, Jennifer," he spat, pointing an accusing finger in her direction. Not bothering to censure his words, his emotions playing too close to the surface to be controlled, he demanded, "You don't like my current mood? Go take a look in the mirror and see the woman responsible for it!"

Lifting her chin defiantly, JJ crossed her arms over her chest as her eyes flashed. "You think I like this, Dave? You think this is my idea of a good time? Anne is my friend! I'm obligated to do everything within my power to get her back!"

"And I'm obligated to stop you," Dave countered angrily, his hand slashing through the air as he barely resisted the urge to find the nearest closet and lock her in it. "Are you even cognizant of the game you're playing with your own life? Do you realize..."

"Exactly what this unsub plans to do to me?" JJ supplied, her voice rising in increasing octaves with each word. "What do you think?" she asked sarcastically, narrowing her eyes as she stepped toward him, dropping her arms as her fists coiled at her sides. "Since I already visited the hell once, I'm pretty sure I do!"

"Then why in the name of God would you put yourself back there?" Dave asked incredulously. "Your misguided martyr complex is going to get you killed, damn it!" he fired back, incensed that the woman he loved steadfastly refused to see reason.

"Misguided...martyr...," JJ sputtered, her jaw dropping as she suddenly lost the ability to speak, her anger growing rapidly with each passing moment. "What the hell would you have me do, Dave?" she retorted. Holding up a hand, she shook her head when he opened his mouth. "Do NOT answer that..."

"No," Dave replied, striding toward her to stand toe to toe, towering over her smaller frame, "I think I will. I'd have you let the people you know and love work the fucking case. I expect you to let them do their jobs without constantly trying to throw yourself over the goddamned knife. In short, I expect you to stop being on a one-woman crusade to get yourself killed," he finished on a shout.

"Screw you," JJ snarled, glaring up at him with an anger she hadn't realized she could ever possess. "Who the fuck made you omnipotent, Rossi?" she asked, stabbing him in the chest with a pointed finger. "Last a checked, you weren't my husband and you sure as hell aren't my father! You don't get a fucking say in the way I choose to live my life."

"Live your life, Jen?" Dave laughed without humor, grabbing her hand and hauling her closer. "Is that what you call what you've been doing lately? Living? Seriously?"

"Go to hell. I'm doing the best I fucking can," JJ seethed, jerking her hand away and turning on her heel to storm away.

Grabbing her arm, Dave jerked her around to face him. "Then do better," he ordered, his voice heavy, "And stop this foolishness about acting as bait to lure this psycho out, Jennifer."

"Fuck you," JJ hissed, wrenching her arm from his grip. "I don't answer to you. I answer to Aaron Hotchner, and unlike you, he's willing to see that I have a point. HE'S willing to have some faith in me!"

Never had he wanted to strangle a man with his bare hands more than he did Hotch at that exact moment. Intellectually, he understood the man had a job to do. Emotionally, however, he would rip the other man apart, limb from limb before he allowed him to place this precious woman back into an unmitigated monster's hands.

Hadn't they all lived through that hell before?

"It won't happen, Jennifer," he said softly, his tone even but deadly.

"It's not up to you," JJ replied tersely, equally resolved, her shoulders straightening.

Her eyes glinted with determination as he met her gaze. "You won't do this."

"Is that so?" JJ hissed as she cocked one blonde brow.

"Yeah," he nodded calmly. "It's so."

"And why are you suddenly so convinced of that?" she snapped angrily.

"Because while you might not give a damn about my feelings on the matter, there is someone's opinion that you do value," Dave stated slowly, letting his words sink in as he closely watched her expressive face.

Her eyes widened a moment later as her mind comprehended his veiled threat. "You son of a bitch," she breathed, shaking her head. "Don't you dare involve him!"

Cocking his head, Dave shrugged. "That's up to you, babe. But if I can't induce you to see reason, I'll have no choice. Your father has a right to know that his daughter is willing to compromise her life, doesn't he?"

Tear springing to her eyes at his low blow, JJ shook her head. "You wouldn't," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion hovering just below the surface.

"Try me," he replied, enunciating each word carefully as her face blanched.

Her open palmed hand connected with his jaw with a jarring crack of sound, a reflexive reaction to inordinate stress.

Never flinching, Dave's dark eyes never wavered as he volleyed her earlier question back at her. "Did that help?" he asked quietly.

Shaking her head frantically as his threat hung in the air and her palm throbbed, JJ cursed herself as she felt a hot teardrop slide from her eye. "How could you do this to me?" she choked, refusing to give in and swipe the tears. "How could you use daddy against me?"

"I warned you, JJ," Dave offered softly, knowing that he had made the only choice possible in the midst of worsening circumstances. "I told you I was fully prepared to do...to say whatever I had to say or to act in whatever way I deemed necessary, to keep you alive. I've never lied to you."

"And if he comes after my father next?" JJ asked hoarsely, beginning to shake uncontrollably. "If he goes after him? Do you think I'll ever forgive you for that?"

"No," Dave said simply. "I don't. But if it means keeping you safe, it's a calculated risk I'm prepared to take. I love you." Watching as she began to visibly shake, Dave said quickly, "Jen, I've taken every precaution for your father I can think of. I've hired him a personal bodyguard. I've posted a round the clock agent with him. He's not going to be a target."

"You mean like Anne wasn't a target?" JJ laughed bitterly, her teeth chattering in spite of her best efforts. "Like my sister wasn't a target?" she shrieked as she landed a blow against his chest.

He endured her anger...the blows landing against his chest as she vented her helplessness on him. Each agonized sob ripped his soul and he reminded himself that he could be the villain if it meant she remained unharmed.

He caught her as she collapsed against him, her futile tears drenching his shirt. "I'm so sorry," he whispered against her hair as she sagged against his chest, spent. "But I have to do what keeps you safe."

And as JJ felt him lifting her in his arms, she knew that in order to keep her father from danger...to keep HIM from danger...she, too, needed to do whatever was necessary.

With or without Dave's consent.


	149. Chapter 148

_**Author's Note: Okay, readers, I think (and that's a big word for me these days) that I'm back. I'm sorry if I've disappointed anyone with my lack of updates. Real life (deployments, children, my health, etc.) have taken a huge toll on me these days. But I'm going to make every effort to become more dependable.**_

_**Please don't forget about our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Currently, we're taking signups for our great Valentine's Gift Fic Exchange and we'd love to have everyone sign up. The more the merrier. Details are at the forum and you can PM us with any questions!**_

_**Again, thanks for bearing with me, my fanfic friends!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Eight**

Blinking her eyes several times as she regained consciousness, Anne groggily realized several things simultaneously as her vision slowly cleared, hazy fog hanging around the edges of her new world.

The first was that whatever that bastard had given her, it had packed a powerful punch. Her head still swam and her stomach rebelled, whether from lack of food or the needle he'd callously jammed in her arm after strapping her down to the metal table she laid on, she didn't know.

She could still feel his rancid breath fanning her cheek as he'd bent to sing in her ear.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word," he'd sang, the maniacal laughter hiding just barely behind his words.

"Do me a favor and just go ahead and kill me, you bastard," she'd spat as she'd struggled against the leather restraints anchoring her to the table, her wrists chafed raw and bleeding.

"Tsk, Tsk, Sheriff Fortner. All in good time," he'd smiled down at her, his gleaming teeth the only thing visible other than his eyes. "First things is first. I need to prep my special patient," he informed her pleasantly as he cut off her shirt, his hands impersonal as they moved over her methodically.

"I'm not your patient, you son of a bitch," Anne had ground out weakly, the effects of the shot he'd given her already coursing through her bloodstream, stalling any hope she'd had of attempting an escape.

"Oh, I beg to differ," he had smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he'd removed her shirt, sliding the material from under her back.

Shivering as the cold metal touched her skin, she tried not to grimace as he moved the scissors to her jeans. "Did you play with all your victims like they were dolls in your own personal human anatomy experiment?" she asked, her words starting to slow even as she made a concerted effort to try and resist the drugs pumping through her.

"Oh, you're no doll, Anne. Dolls don't talk. They don't interact," he smiled, ripping her jeans at the seam. "Hearing you talk to me is half the reward. Hearing you scream is even better though," he stated greedily, bending to whisper against her ear. "Tell me, will you scream for me, dear Anne?"

"Fuck you," Anne spat, using the last of her strength to turn her face away from him, her cheek pressing against the table as her eyes burned with tears she steadfastly refused to shed.

"Oh, a challenge," he crooned, going back to her jeans.

"Christ, are you so much a freak that you need to rape your victims prior to going Frankenstein on them? You have to drug a woman to fuck her, you bastard," Anne taunted, her mind fighting valiantly against the heaviness threatening to overtake her mind...her body…her willpower.

The unsub grimaced, distaste shining in his eyes. "Absolutely not. A good doctor never lusts after his patient, Anne."

"A good doctor takes an oath that says, 'First, do no harm,'" she laughed without humor as his hands began to work on the tough seam of her other pants leg. At least rape wasn't one of the atrocities she was facing in her near future. "Where the hell were you on that one, asshole?" she asked, trying to divert his attention even as she felt her mind literally shutting down, her words harder and harder to form.

"Sacrifices must always be made in the name of good science. I haven't attained that perfect specimen as yet. But I will. Until then, I practice, practice, practice."

"You're a fucking nut case. You know that, don't you?" Anne breathed, feeling her body growing heavier and heavier.

"Every great scientist had critics. It didn't stop them either."

"You aren't a fucking scientist. And why the hell are you still wearing that mask. It's pointless you know. I know who you are," she said faintly, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"You think you do," he smirked, wagging a finger in front of her face.

"What're you goin to do ta me?" she asked, her words beginning to slur, his hand growing larger and larger in front of her dilated eyes. "Wha- part of me are ya takin?"

"Shhh," he crooned, patting her cheek much the way a parent pats their child. "Nothing today. I gave our friends three days to find you. We have three days together to do our experiments. I thought I'd start with the organs you have a duplicate of. After all," he grinned madly, "do you really need both kidneys? And a person can live quite successfully without a lobe of their liver."

"You're crazy," Anne slurred, shaking her head weakly as the drugs began to overpower her.

"No, I'm not. But if you think that sounds insane, you probably won't be pleased when I perform the lobotomy when your colleagues miss their deadline," he grinned. "Quite inept, those friends of yours. Although I do approve of the lovely JJ. But then, she's my masterpiece. Or, she will be."

"You'll never get 'er," Anne denied, her eyes fluttering as his lips tightened and she heard him emit a primal snarl.

"Shut up!" he growled, shoving a rag in her mouth. "I have work to do," he smiled coldly, brandishing a lethal looking scalpel.

That had been the last thing she remembered. Now, relatively coherent, she noted her pain distantly. She supposed the drugs he'd given her had muted it….something that now made her inordinately grateful.

Lifting her head unsteadily to try and look down her naked body, her mouth fell open as she noted the neat row of stitches marring her skin.

He'd performed fucking surgery on her! Somewhere in her mind, she'd known that had been his intention, but seeing the wound...the stitches...

Squeezing her eyes closed, she let her head fall back to the table. Breathing deeply as she tried to squelch the horror pervading her, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Okay, by the location of the stitches, he'd more than likely removed her kidney. Looking to her right, the jar on a metal counter confirmed her suspicion. There, floating in what she assumed to be formaldehyde, was the evidence. She still remembered enough of her human anatomy class to recognize the organ when she saw it.

Allowing a teardrop to fall, she released a shaky breath.

Testing the restraints binding her arms, she moaned as the muscles in her stomach protested.

"Fuck!" she screamed in frustration, jerking futilely against the stiff straps restraining her. Collapsing back against the table, Anne squeezed her eyes shut again.

And for the first time since her nightmare had commenced, she wondered if this might actually be the final hours of her life.

* * *

_**Dedicated to My Husband - even through it all, I still love you.**_


	150. Chapter 149

_**Author's Note: **__**Calling all readers! Join us for our Awesome January Awards...to recognize and honor the best fics written for any of the challenges on "**__**Chit Chat**__** on Author's Corner" forum! All you have to do is send the title of your favorite fic (and author who wrote it) that was written for a challenge to either ilovetvalot or tonnie2001969's private message inbox. Stories by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969 are not eligible for competition. Only one vote per person! For more details and full rules, visit Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. You don't need to be an author to vote, simply visit the forum and review our challenge threads (stories are already and the threads will be pinned to the top of the page). So, everyone, come on over and lets have some fun. Voting commences now and ends January 31, 2011. Awards will be given for first, second and third place.**_

_**Please don't forget about our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Currently, we're taking signups for our great Valentine's Gift Fic Exchange and we'd love to have everyone sign up. The more the merrier. Details are at the forum and you can PM us with any questions! WE ONLY HAVE FOUR MORE DAYS LEFT!**_

_**Again, thanks for bearing with me, my fanfic friends!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine**

Her eyes opened to a dim room. She could feel his warm body nestled behind her in bed, and a quick, almost-panicked, look at the clock confirmed that she'd only napped a half hour. Inhaling deeply as she allowed her body to relax again, she could smell his familiar scent mingling with hers. Funny, how fast she'd become accustomed to the feel of his body...the tangy aroma of his cologne that was distinctly him. They'd only been together mere days, but her body recognized his as her soul mate.

And she didn't want to hurt him.

But, we didn't always get what we wanted in life, did we? The last twenty-five years had taught her that lesson well. And she was nothing if not astute at retaining those life-changing moments.

She jerked slightly against him when she heard his deep voice rumble, "I know you're awake, Jen. I heard those gears in your mind shift back into action when you opened your eyes."

Turning in his arms, she smiled into the darkness in spite of the grim circumstances. "I wasn't trying to hide it."

"You weren't trying to advertise it either," he countered quietly, lifting a hand to trace the line of her jaw, his thumb sweeping underneath her obviously tired eyes. "What are you thinking?" he whispered.

"That I wish we could just stay here in bed and forget everything that's happening outside," she sighed fancifully, shaking her head almost sadly.

"I can arrange that any time you want," Dave offered hopefully, sliding his hand down her arm to palm her hip.

"No, you can't," JJ admitted as she smiled tiredly again. "But I appreciate the offer," she breathed, lifting her head to brush his lips gently.

"That offer is always on the table, Jen," he assured her truthfully, his heart catching as her eyes fluttered closed, the faint light from the half-open door spilling around them. "I can get you out of here. They don't need you to end this."

"We've already covered this ground, Dave," JJ denied without opening her eyes, the visions inside her mind equally as horrifying as the reality around them. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You won't reconsider?" Dave murmured against her forehead, his lips pressed against her warm skin.

"I ran once." She shook her head, forcing herself to open her eyes as she stared up at him. "It didn't do any good. He'll just find me again and again until he's stopped. And whether you want to see it or not, I'm the key to making that happen. I'm his Achilles' heel. Sooner or later, you're going to have to use that advantage."

His arm contracted around her as he absorbed her words. "It won't come to that," he denied automatically, the thought of putting her in danger hitting him like a glass of cold water in the face. "You're already in enough danger just being in Sunshine, JJ. Provoking him into an attack..."

"He's already attacked, Dave. And as you just pointed out, I'm already in danger. Simply breathing is putting me in his sights. The profiler in you knows that I'm the answer to this equation," JJ said gently, tempering her words as she tried to reach the agent that resided in the man beside her.

Everything she said was true, but the man in him...the man that loved her... recoiled from the option she offered. "There's got to be another way, Bella," he replied huskily, drawing her delicate frame closer.

"Can you find it before Anne dies?" JJ asked plainly, her voice holding no accusation. "If not, you need to open your mind to another possibility."

"Damn it, Jennifer," he growled raggedly, lifting his hand to run it down his face as he flopped back onto his pillow. "I can't believe I'm even considering..."

Lifting herself on one elbow, JJ captured his hand and drew it against her heart. She could sense his imminent capitulation, however reluctant it may be. "I know you'll keep me safe, Dave. You won't let anything happen to me," she insisted, knowing deep in her bones that everything she said was true. If there was any way he could prevent it, she'd emerge from hell unscathed.

He could feel the muscle in his jaw flex as he ground his teeth together. Reaching over to the bedside table, he snapped on the small lamp, the corner of the room flooded with the whitish light. Eyes flashing, he met her pure, honest gaze. "If I go for this," he said slowly, each word ripped from his hesitant throat, "you'll follow every goddamn thing I say, no questions. Whatever plan Gideon, Hotch, Gibbs and I put together. No arguments."

"I'll do whatever it takes for you all to get this monster, Dave," JJ agreed, her voice even in spite of the sudden pounding of her heart. "I'll act in whatever way you see fit. Just don't ask me to keep sitting uselessly on the sidelines."

Nodding jerkily, his gut clenched. "You have got to let us protect you, Jen. You listen to every word we say and you don't try to make any decisions without consulting us."

"I will," she whispered as his arms jerked her to him, her body molding to his as the covers shifted around them. "I swear, I'll listen, Dave."

Rolling her to her back, Dave pinned her to the mattress, staring into her eyes. "I hate this," he bit out. "I hate every fucking thing about this."

"I know," JJ consoled, her cool hand cupping his whiskered jaw. "But there isn't another way and you know it."

"Fuck!" he exploded, dropping his head to rest against her neck. "I can't believe I'm even contemplating throwing you into the fray. I swore, Jen! I swore I wouldn't let this happen," he said roughly, his words muffled against her skin.

"You didn't let this happen," JJ countered softly. "You didn't put these balls into play. He did."

"I can not lose you," he murmured. "You may not be able to say it yet, but I can. I love you," he whispered. "I won't lose you to him," he vowed, his arms contracting around her.

"You won't," JJ breathed against his ear, her own arms winding around him, holding him as tightly as he held her. "Look at me, Rossi," she ordered sternly, knowing she had to refocus his attention. Waiting until he'd lifted eyes shining with emotion to hers, she said clearly, but softly, "You won't."

"I better not," he whispered before covering her mouth with his, coaxing her lips apart insistently to tangle his tongue possessively with hers. "I need you," he muttered against her damp lips as he dragged his mouth along her neck.

"I need you, too," she returned unevenly, her breath coming in short bursts as his lips met hers again, his kiss wild and passionate as his hands worked frantically on the buttons of her shirt.

"Fuck it," he rasped, lifting away long enough to rip open his own shirt.

Lifting up, her hands found his belt buckle as he pressed his lips back to hers, pushing her loose skirt to her hips with eager, trembling hands. "Yes," she moaned against his lips as she finally released the fly of his jeans, her fingers awkward in their haste. Pulling his throbbing manhood into her hand and stroking it slowly, JJ gasped as his fingers found her core, stroking her slick folds purposefully.

Drawing back, Dave watched JJ's face as his fingers danced along her flesh. He was overwhelmed with the need to bury himself inside her, but he'd be damned if he did so before she was as desperate as he was. "God, you're beautiful, Jennifer," he breathed as she turned her head, pressing one flushed cheek against the pillows as her hips arched against his hand. "So beautiful," he whispered, dipping his head to run his tongue along the scar marring her perfect skin. "I love you," he murmured against her skin before capturing one perfect rounded globe between his lips and suckling gently.

"David," JJ breathed shakily, one hand sinking into his dark hair as his lips pulled at her breast. "Please," she begged, tugging at his hair, "Need you," she whimpered against his lips as he released her peak from his lips and rose above her.

Sinking into her body, Dave groaned as her walls surrounded him, her body enveloping his in bliss. His control faltered as she wrapped her legs around his hips, bringing him deeper. "God, Bella," he growled against her mouth, nipping her lower lip as she rolled her hips underneath him.

Lifting her head, JJ's teeth grazed his neck as her arms wound around his neck. "I can say it," she said against his ear, gently flicking his earlobe as she spoke. "I love you, too."

And with those simple words, he then lost what remained of his control.

* * *

_**DEDICATED TO MY HERO!**_


	151. Chapter 150

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has been patiently waiting for our stories to be posted. We appreciate your support and apologize for any delays. Real life, however, has taken precedence! We always want to be able to provide you with quality stories and chapters, so our postings may be a bit sporadic over the next month.**_

_**Please check out our most recent challenge on our forum – March Madness! The guidelines are simple: You suggest a pairing and choose a TV title from the list provided (shows are from the 70s, 80s, and 90s). We'll assign out the pairings & suggestions by March 4, and you have until March 31 to create just the perfect story based on the prompts you receive. Your final story does NOT have to be about the TV show prompt, but you do have to use the TV show title in the story somehow. Check out our forum, Chit Chat on Author's Corner, for details and to sign up…you can find a link on our profile pages.**_

_**As always, we do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters that we so enjoy writing. If we did own them, we would have never had JJ leave!**_

* * *

__**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty**

An hour later, David Rossi slammed the door to the makeshift war room the Sunshine Police Department had created for them and glared at the men surrounding the table.

Leveling a finger at the Unit Chief, he growled, "I'm blaming you for this."

"Blaming me could encompass a lot of ground, Dave," Hotch stated carefully, arching one brow as he met his long-time friend's eyes. "What is it you think I've done here?" Hotch asked carefully, his dark eyes conveying nothing.

"You know exactly what you did, Aaron. You backed her up. You might never have said a damned word, but you didn't put the brakes on JJ's plan to step up her involvement either," Dave snapped, pushing the door closed, the resounding crash filling the small room.

"If you recall, I neither advocated nor dissuaded for JJ," Hotch pointed out evenly, leaning back in his seat.

"Part of the fucking problem, Hotch," Rossi barked, his jaw tightening as he stalked toward the small table. "Thanks to you, she's determined to put herself in the line of fire."

"I hate to be the guy that states the obvious," Gibbs drawled from the corner, "but JJ might be our best shot at getting Anne back alive, Rossi."

"We are going to get Anne back alive," Gideon growled from the other corner, his chair back leaned against the wall. "Failure isn't an option here," he said, meeting Dave's gaze squarely.

"Look, Gid, I want Anne back as much as anybody in this room, but not at the cost of JJ's life," Dave retorted hotly. "Has it struck anybody here that we could cost both women their lives?"

"Not a fucking option," Gideon shouted as he dropped the chair to the floor, slamming his hand violently against the scarred wooden table, shaking it on its wobbly legs. "We're getting Anne back, Rossi, and I swear to God if you imply one more time that we won't, I'm going to knock your teeth down your throat," Gideon threatened, rising sharply and advancing toward Dave.

Gibbs and Hotch stepped quickly between the two hot tempered men, both prepared to become human buffers if necessary. "That's enough!" Hotch bit out, grabbing Dave's arm when he would have reached for Gideon.

"This isn't gonna help Anne, Gideon," Gibbs said, keeping his voice low as he body blocked Gideon, deftly sliding into the fray.

Shaking his head, Gideon ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Do you think any of us here want to put JJ in any more danger, Dave? I was there, too, all those years ago. You might have carried her out, but I saw what he'd done to her! And I know what he's probably doing to Anne even now!"

Slamming his fist against the wall as Hotch took a step back, Dave spat, "Damn it! We don't have a fucking choice. This bastard has us backed into a goddamn corner. And, hell, JJ's made her decision. But I want her protected," he warned each man, his eyes daring any to dispute him.

"Where is she now?" Gibbs asked calmly.

"With Reid and Morgan. I told her we were gonna work a plan," Dave said as the door behind him opened.

"Sir! Sir!" Garcia exploded in the room, her breath coming fast and furious. "We just received an encrypted email from the unsub," she said hurriedly, waving the paper in her hand furiously.

"What does it say, Garcia?" Hotch asked quickly, immediately moving toward the technical genius.

Licking her lips, she bit her lip as she looked down at the single page she held with a shaking hand. "Our Jennifer knows where to find me when she's ready. And when she's ready, she should come alone. It ends where it began. Remember, time is running out. And by the way, Sheriff Fortner's," Garcia faltered, her face paling as her eyes clouded with tears, "Deputy Fortner's kidney has made a wonderful addition to my collection. Warn JJ to hurry. Living without both would be infinitely harder."

"Her kidney," Gideon breathed, faltering on his feet. "He's already taken her kidney?"

Biting her lips, Garcia swallowed. "He sent a picture, sir," she whispered.

"Let me see," Gideon ordered, lunging for Garcia.

"Jason, don't," Rossi shook his head, peering over Garcia's shoulder at the crude photograph.

"I need to see her!" Gideon said, fighting against Gibbs hold on him.

"Not like this you don't," Hotch denied. "Get it out of here, Garcia," he ordered gently, urging the woman toward the door quickly.

Looking at Jason, now shaking with rage and fear, Rossi reminded him softly, "She's still alive, Jason."

"For how long?" Gideon asked hoarsely. "And what the hell did that cryptic shit mean, damn it?" he asked, scrubbing a hand across his face.

"Jesus!" Gibbs muttered, looking from man to man. "You're the damn profilers. Think like them! If you all let your personal emotions get involved, both Anne and JJ are as good as dead."

"Gibbs is right," Hotch agreed firmly, nodding once as he glanced around at his assembled team. "We need to dissect the unsub's latest message. What do you think he meant?"

Inhaling deeply, Gideon forced himself to focus. "Something in her memory of the kidnapping is the key...the clue."

"So...what? Another regression session?" Gibbs asked, leaning one shoulder against the wall as he took a sip of his coffee.

"No. Not after the last one," Dave automatically denied, mentally cringing as he remembered the horrors his Jennifer had lived through during that time.

"Do you want to get this bastard or not, Rossi?" Gideon asked roughly. "If there's a clue hidden in JJ's subconscious, we need to find it. Fast. Anne might only have hours left. Losing a kidney...we don't have any idea what kind of condition she's in, but I think it's safe to assume it ain't fucking good."

Lips tightening, Dave knew Gideon had a point. "We do it with Ducky and the other doc's supervision. If she begins to react negatively..."

"It's gonna be negative, Dave. She's going to travel back through hell. You're just gonna have to trust me with her," Gideon snapped.

"She almost slipped away from twice now, Jason. Twice," Dave spat. "I won't lose her!"

"And I'm not losing Anne," Gideon shouted, the words clawing out of his throat. Breathing deeply, Jason stared at Dave. "I need JJ to come thru this as much as you do. Maybe for different reasons, but we both have the same goal."

Lifting his chin as he stared into the other man's haunted eyes, Dave nodded tersely. "Fine, but I'm going to be there."

"Dave, I'm not sure if that's a good..." Hotch began.

Eyes burning, Dave met Hotch's stare. "Maybe you aren't understanding me. It's non-negotiable."

And with those words, Dave slammed from the room, his only burning desire to hold the woman he loved before she journeyed once more into hell itself.


	152. Chapter 151

_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has been patiently waiting for our stories to be posted. We appreciate your support and apologize for any delays. Real life, however, has taken precedence! We always want to be able to provide you with quality stories and chapters, so our postings may be a bit sporadic over the next month.**_

_**Please...check out our new forum topic: A Fanfic Glossary! We want to know if you guys find it helpful and our topic thread "Our Stance on the 2010 Criminal Minds Fanfic Awards". We have also opened a Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior thread where you may discuss the show (respectfully, of course). We also have a forum announcing our fellow author's (Kathi1C) new IheartCriminalMinds blog. You can ask her questions and get directions on going to her site.**_

_**As always, we do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters that we so enjoy writing. If we did own them, we would have never had JJ leave!**_

_**Please let me know what ya'll think!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-One**

Striding down the hallway, Dave immediately spotted JJ quietly leaning against the wall in soft conversation with Ducky, Gibbs' medical examiner. "Hey," he called out, offering her a forced smile as she turned in his direction. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," JJ said immediately, her voice stronger than he'd heard it in a while. "Do we have a plan?"

"Working on it," Dave muttered, privately hating the plan they had but knowing at the same time it was necessary. He would never be in complete agreement with something that could place her life in even further danger.

"I take it they want to do another regression?" JJ said softly, reaching for Dave's hand. "I'll be okay, Dave. I can handle it...handle anything if it means another person doesn't have to die. Especially Anne," she continued, squeezing gently.

"What do you think of this, Duck? You were there the last time. You saw what happened," Dave asked, hoping that perhaps Ducky would nix the entire plan and return them to their current state of normal. At least that way he wouldn't be the bad guy.

Clearing his throat, he looked from a grim faced David Rossi to an expectant Jennifer Jareau. "I think with the proper precautionary measures, she could do this quite successfully."

"What proper measures?" Dave asked quickly, grasping at the only straw he could find.

"When exactly are you and your team going to perform this regression?" Ducky asked evenly, arching one brow.

"Hopefully, now," JJ muttered, ready to get the ball rolling in spite of her ambivalence toward the entire idea.

"We'll decide that after you tell us what you think, Duck. You're the doctor here," Dave commented with a hard look at JJ.

"It would be my professional opinion that before your body undergoes this stress, you decompress as much as possible, my dear girl," Ducky directed at JJ, a paternal smile gracing his lips.

"No offense, Doctor, but I don't think there's any such thing at this point," JJ snorted.

"Prior to the regression, I can give you something to help your body relax, but beforehand, I truly believe you should indulge in an activity that helps relieve your stress."

"We already did that," Dave stated bluntly, no longer mincing his words. "She's still stressed."

"Dave!" JJ gasped, scandalized, her cheeks reddening.

"That wasn't exactly the activity I was speaking of," Ducky clucked, his eyes twinkling. "I'm thinking of something that lowers blood pressure, not raises it." Looking at JJ, Ducky asked, "What is something that under normal circumstances would relax you? Reading? Writing? Meditation?" he offered, tilting his head.

"I..." JJ frowned, sighing as she flashed one last glare in Rossi's direction. "I like riding."

"You fell off the last horse I let you get on," Dave immediately denied, shaking his head.

Pursing his lips, Ducky shot Dave a warning glare. "Agent Rossi. Due respect, but do stop talking."

Giggling as she watched Dave's cheeks flush, JJ grinned at Ducky. "I so wish I'd gotten that on tape. That was relaxing to watch. Do it again," she whispered as she winked at the elderly man.

"Very funny," Dave grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ignoring Rossi, Ducky patted JJ's arm. "Go for a ride, my dear girl. Allow yourself to be soothed by the horses. Animal therapy has proven therapeutic effects," he said with a look at Dave.

"Shit," Dave muttered, watching as JJ's eyes softened with thoughts of the stables. "Okay," he sighed. "You win."

"Thank you," JJ smiled, aware how hard this was on him.

"Don't thank me yet. I need to stay here and work a plan with the guys. And you are going with an armed escort."

"Dave, I know this town. Trust me, I'm safe at the stables. Besides, I'm a trained agent," JJ argued. "All hands need to be on deck here."

"You agreed you'd listen to me, Jen," Dave stated, his voice low. "There's no way in hell you're going out there unaccompanied. It's me or one of the guys."

"Take Dinozzo," Gibbs offered, stepping out of the war room and into the small crowded hallway. "I'm betting he's never seen the inside of a stable," Gibbs grinned with gleaming eyes.

"Is he good?" Dave asked gruffly, looking at Gibbs.

"Wouldn't be on my team if he wasn't," Gibbs returned evenly.

Dave nodded. "Fine, him and Morgan, too."

"For God's sake, Dave," JJ snapped as she rolled her eyes. "I'm a crack shot," she whined.

"Not negotiable," Dave said flatly.

Sighing heavily, JJ nodded. "Fine, but when Morgan starts bitching about the smell, I can't promise not to shoot him myself. And you," she said to Gibbs, "let Tony know I'm not responsible if he can't watch where he steps."

"Will do," Gibbs grinned, walking away.

"And on that note, I'll go call Dr. Beaumont and order that relaxant for this evening," Ducky nodded, patting JJ's shoulder as he passed.

"Order one for him, too," JJ smiled as Ducky moved around them.

"Har, har," Dave snorted as he glared at her.

"Stop worrying," JJ ordered pressing her hand to his chest. "You know Morgan and Tony won't let anything happen."

"I'm always going to worry. At least until we catch this psycho, Jen," Dave shook his head. Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, he bent to kiss her forehead. "But maybe Duck is right. A couple of hours riding might do you some good."

"I'm willing to try," JJ nodded. "Are you sure that I shouldn't stay though?"

"Positive," Dave nodded, cupping her arms and drawing her closer. "For the next few hours, we all just want you to try and clear your mind. And maybe take a picture or two. Morgan on a horse isn't something I want to miss."

"DiNozzo, too," Gibbs said as he passed them again, an empty coffee mug in his grip. "And video, if I can get it," he called back over his shoulder.

Snorting into Dave's shoulder, JJ shook her head. "Just so you know, you two are very bad men."

"Oh, puh-lease, like you wouldn't be saying the same thing in my place," Dave chuckled, tightening his arms around her.

"You might have a point," JJ agreed, visions of Morgan and a horse just not quiet colliding. One thing was certain.

It was setting itself up to be a memorable afternoon and evening.


	153. Chapter 152

_Hello, friends! We have a confession to make…we made a mistake in posting, and completely missed posting this chapter when it should have been up! And since it's an important chapter in our saga, we didn't want you to miss it! We apologize for the mistake, and hope that it does not confuse you too much. We have taken down the last chapter that we posted (out of schedule) and will be reposting it again soon. Thanks for your understanding!_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Two**

Drawing in a deep breath of crisp fresh air, JJ grinned as she easily slipped her booted foot into the stirrup and vaulted into the saddle, her motion as natural as drawing breath.

"Damn, girl, but you make that look easy," Morgan said with a low whistle from his perch on the mount beside hers. "You weren't kidding when you said you were raised on a farm, were you?" he asked with amused eyes.

Lovingly patting the neck of her snow-white horse, JJ shrugged as she held the reins loosely in one hand. "Oh, I've been on a few horseback rides before, Derek." Glancing over his shoulder, her grin widened as she saw the disgruntled face of the NCIS agent. Arching a brow as she watched DiNozzo glare down at his ebony steed, she called out, "You and Midnight still not getting along, Tony?"

Straightening his shoulders as he pasted a smile on his face, DiNozzo muttered, "We'll be just fine, JJ. As long as I'm not the one having to walk along in any of the other horses' paths anymore, life should be a bed of roses. I still don't understand why the Boss didn't sign on for this detail. I'm assuming he actually knows how to ride a horse," Tony huffed, unable to get comfortable upon the beast he sat on.

"All that fancy schmancy upbringing I've heard about and you never got into the equestrian game?" Morgan snorted, hoping that he could keep his own ass on the damn steed.

"I was much better at the gambling game...But, I can do this, partner," Tony shot back with a salute, his less than stellar John Wayne impression amusing both JJ and Morgan.

"Gibbs wanted to consult with Dave about the plan, Tony," JJ said gently, choosing her words carefully. "But if you guys would be more comfortable, maybe you could take turns riding with me. I think one bodyguard would be enough," she said, waving at Tony Ellis, a longtime farmer in the area that boarded his horses at the stable as well, as he passed. Looking from one inelegant rider to the other, JJ laughed. "Look, I seriously doubt that I'm going to need double protection riding over this fenced-in meadow, guys. Dave said two hours. Why don't one of you ride and the other watch and then switch?"

"Oooohhh, I like," Tony said, pointing at her as he grinned widely. "I'll watch first!"

"Come again?" Derek yelped, glaring at the dapper NCIS agent. "You afraid of getting those pretty loafers scuffed?"

"Hey," Tony shrugged. "Can I help it if I called it first?"

"Called it first?" Derek argued, his eyebrows raising. "Rock, paper, scissors," he ordered, frowning as he became unsettled when he released the reins of his horse and the steed made a sudden movement to the left.

"You sure about that?" Tony grinned cockily, his feet now firmly planted on the ground.

"We're wasting time, boys," JJ chided, anxious to move. Something about the fresh air and smell of the farm always filled her with a sense of contentment...and these morons were holding up progress.

"Fine," Morgan muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening on the reins again. "But you keep your damn camera phone in your pocket," he glared warningly at Dinozzo, "and stay close."

"I'll be as quiet as a mouse," Tony grinned, fingering his Android phone gleefully. "Can't make any promises about those pics though. The tech analyst you've got is pretty persuasive," he teased.

"Tony," JJ said sternly, pointing toward the whitewashed fence in the distance. "Go!" she ordered, unwilling to listen to the argument about to unfold. She was supposed to be relaxing before tonight. Damn it, Dave had said so.

Watching as Tony ambled away, JJ smiled over her shoulder at Morgan. "You've ridden before, right?"

"Years ago," Morgan muttered. "I think it was in Boy Scouts."

"It's like riding a bike," JJ grinned, kicking her heels against her mounts side and taking off.

"Yeah, right," Morgan complained, mimicking JJ's actions as he followed.

/XXX/

_Watching quietly from the corner of the barn, well out of sight of any of the riders, he smiled as the cockier of the two agents wandered toward the fence, bracing his arms against it as he played with his phone, snapping pictures._

_Perfect, he thought with satisfaction. That's right...become distracted. Make my mission that much easier, Agent Dinozzo. From the beginning of things, these agents had proven over and over just how inept they were. It wasn't surprising that now was no different._

_Fingering the syringes in his pocket, he could barely contain his glee at how simple the first stage of his plan was going to be. His target's back was to him...and he knew he could move with cat-like grace that had been perfected over time; his steps never making a sound as he approached the other man._

_In just a few minutes, he'd have his coveted prize back in his possession and all his hopes and dreams would reach long awaited fruition._

_His query was ten steps away at best and softly, carefully, he made his way forward as JJ and the tall, black agent rode away from them. The needle pierced his victim's neck seemlessly, as it always did._

_Gasping, Tony involuntarily reached for the wounded area, turning, phone in hand as he did. "Who are..." he gasped as his body locked up before falling to the ground, his finger pressing the send button as he went down with the last of his strength._

_Sparing a look toward the meadow, he noted he still had a moment. Bringing his boot down on the cell phone, he watched as it shattered with satisfaction. Smiling at the blank stare his now paralyzed victim focused on him, he said, his voice low..."Now, your eyes...they would have made a nice addition to my collection. Too bad I'm on a schedule," he said before disappearing behind the barn again._

_Phase one was complete._

_Now all he had to do was wait._


	154. Chapter 153

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Three**

Barreling down the narrow hallway, Abby Scuito scanned from side to side as she tried to find the one person that could manage to stop this entire scenario from growing into a disaster of epic proportions.

You have to find him for Tony, she told herself sternly as she felt her emotions start to grow hyper once again. He can fix this!

And then, suddenly, there he was, just a mere ten feet ahead in the corner of the small bullpen area, his head bent over in conversation with the FBI agents.

Abby skidded to a stop, teetering on her clod heels as she screamed at the top of her lungs, "GIBBS!"

Jethro Gibbs turned quickly as he heard the fear in his Abby's voice. "Abs?" he asked worriedly, striding toward her. "What's wrong?"

Gulping, she waved her hands in the air as she jabbered, "It's more than just wrong, Gibbs. It transcends wrong and has gone into the stratosphere of catastrophic this time. Not even the space shuttle could reach this level, even with the boosters loaded with extra nitrogen. As a matter of fact…."

Inhaling as she felt her oxygen levels start to plummet, Abby blurted, "It's Tony, Gibbs!"

"What's Tony?" Gibbs barked, frowning as Abby's blunt nails dug into his arm and she began dragging him down the hall at breakneck speed, her high-heeled boots clomping loudly as she ate up the linoleum.

"Pictures of Tony!" she answered, shoving him into Penelope Garcia's makeshift office, the door bouncing loudly against the paneled wall. Lifting a determined finger toward the image still displayed on two of Garcia's screens, she ordered, "Look for yourself."

Eyes scanning the picture that was grimly displayed before him, Gibbs stiffened before growling, "I swear to God, if this is one of Dinozzo's pranks…"

"We both know it's not, Gibbs," Abby whispered, clutching his hand as she sidled closer, needing to know that her protector was on the case. "He's in trouble. They all are."

"Damn it," Gibbs spat, hurling his ever present cup of coffee toward the trash can, the contents flying against the plastic container. "Get all units to that address."

"Already done," Garcia replied, wiping her eyes again as she drew in a deep breath. "Police and EMTs are already in transit."

Nodding tersely, Gibbs turned on his heel toward the door. "Rossi!" he yelled as he jogged down the hallway, Abby at his heels. "Were there any other photographs, Abs?" he asked over his shoulder as his eyes darted in offices as they passed, searching for Rossi.

"No. That was the last one he sent, Gibbs," Abby answered worriedly, her brightly painted lips pressed tightly together as she tugged absently at the leather collar wrapped around her neck. "He'll be okay, right?"

"Rossi!" Gibbs bellowed, not answering the woman behind him. Hell, he didn't have an answer. And he had a gnawing feeling that no one would be able to provide the answers they needed now.

"What?" Dave frowned, his dark head appearing in a door frame as Gibbs rounded the corner of the corridor.

Casting a rueful sidelong look in Abs direction, Gibbs spared a momentary thought to the fact that he despised revealing this newest development with Dave in front of an audience. If the situation were reversed, he wouldn't want the eyes of someone he barely knew on him, no matter how pure of heart the person was. "Abs, see if anything else has come in," he ordered, keeping his voice low.

"But Gibbs," Abby's husky voice began to object, her eyes widening as she bounced on her four-inch booted heels, "Tony…"

"Now, Abigail," Gibbs demanded gruffly, his tone hardening just enough so that she wouldn't question him again.

"Fine, but be careful. All of you," Abby retorted before hurrying back down the hallway.

"What the hell is going on?" Dave asked angrily, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the NCIS agent. "We were just about to…"

"Rossi," Gibbs interrupted, his jaw clenching, "Shut up and listen. We've had a development. We need to move."

Feeling his heartbeat sputter in his chest at the grave set of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' jaw, Dave's fists tightened at his sides. Bracing himself, he whispered, his words catching in his throat, "He got her, didn't he? That bastard has JJ."

"I don't know," Gibbs replied honestly, shrugging. "Photo just came into your tech. It was Dinozzo."

"And?" Dave snapped as he tried to quell the nausea swirling within him, pictures of Jennifer flashing through his mind, his worries overtaking his ability to think coherently.

"And he had a syringe buried in his neck," Gibbs replied, refusing to think about the consequences of that very fact. "Units are en route, but we need to go."

"Son of a bitch," Dave bellowed, his fist connecting with the nearest wall, scattering a dust of plaster in its wake.

"Feel better now?" Gibbs asked dryly, one grey brow arching.

"God damn it," Dave continued to curse as he turned on his heel, striding toward the double glass doors at the front of the station. "I knew it was a bad idea, but she was so goddamned determined…"

Following, Gibbs listened to Rossi's rant build. Nodding at Aaron Hotchner as he, too, strode toward the door, obviously in possession of the grim knowledge that his agents, too, were now in the crosshairs of danger, he felt a twinge of unease creep up his spine. When a man as taciturn as Hotch's emotions were evident on his face, you knew in your gut the situation was dim.

"I'll drive," he heard Hotch say.

"Gideon?" Gibbs questioned as he jogged behind the other two men toward the waiting SUV.

"Riding with Reid and Prentiss," Hotch replied above Dave's tirade, jerking open the SUV's door. "Dave," Hotch said, snapping his seatbelt. "You good?"

"Fuck, no," Dave bit out, his shoulders stiffening even more as he stared straight ahead. "Drive, Aaron," he spat, "Before I jerk you out of the seat and do it for you."


	155. Chapter 154

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Four**

Letting out a happy sigh as they cantered back into the open area around the barn, JJ pulled lightly on the reins. "Whoa," she called out with a half laugh, turning to glance over her shoulder. "You back there, Morgan?"

"Don't worry about me, Blondie," Derek Morgan called out with practiced nonchalance as he studiously ignored the humor in her tone. "I'm keeping up, aren't I? Hell, I even followed when you just had to jump that creek. Honestly, woman, don't you and that horse know any other speed than full blown race?"

"We're just getting reacquainted," JJ retorted as she lovingly patted the thick mane of her favorite steed, her fingers sweeping through the coarse hair. "You're just jealous because you don't understand the bond."

Morgan snorted at the same time his horse did, the loud noise filling the otherwise quiet air in the open area. Nudging his horse to follow as JJ set a slow but steady pace toward the nearby treeline, he said, "Just do me a favor, Jayje, and keep it to a slow cantor from now on. Or Rossi will have my head on a silver platter. And my Baby Girl is awfully fond of all of my body parts being in their respective places, thank you very much."

"Ewww," JJ groaned loudly as she wrinkled her nose. "That is way more information than I needed, Derek."

"Please," Morgan snorted, rolling his eyes as he carefully scanned the area and small barn. "Like you're one to talk considering that kiss I witnessed between you and Rossi. Hell, anybody can see the sparks between you two. They threaten to light us on fire every time one of us is around you," he reported as he grinned, his straight white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

"D-derek," JJ stuttered, blushing in spite of herself. Damn it, she hadn't realized how transparent they'd been. But Derek's loud laughter went a long way towards illuminating her current situation.

"Don't even bother trying to deny it, Sweetness," Derek teased with a widening grin. "Rossi would have a stroke if you did. That man has it worse than I've ever seen before," Derek added. "With anybody. Ever."

"We need to change the subject," JJ grumbled, tightening her fingers on the reins as she ignored the laughing man.

Snorting with mirth, Derek shook his head. "Rossi and JJ sittin' in a tree," he sang.

Glancing over her shoulder as his off-key lyrics bounced around the clear air, JJ glared at her friend. "You know," she said, carefully keeping her voice toneless, "I know all the really good spots to hide a body around here."

"Fair enough," Morgan chuckled, tilting his head. "But for the record, I happen to think he's good for you."

Rolling her eyes, JJ sighed. "Of course you do."

"C'mon, JJ," Morgan replied, "It's obvious that he's in lo-,"

"Stop right there," JJ cut him off with narrowed eyes as his mount drew alongside hers. "I draw the line at talking about my love life."

"So you admit you do have a love life with him, huh?" Morgan asked, his eyes twinkling.

Opening her mouth to issue a scathing retort as their mares entered the final clearing leading toward the barn, whatever she'd been about to say abruptly ceased as she felt something whiz past her ear. Blinking, she watched as a small arrow buried in Morgan's neck. "Derek!" she yelled as the tall black man involuntarily reached out to grab the small weapon.

"What the hell?" Derek spat as he pulled out the small dart. "JJ, down now!" he ordered as his vision suddenly began to falter.

Quickly dismounting, JJ grabbed Derek's arm as he began to topple from the horse.

Meeting JJ's eyes, Morgan gasped, the words barely audible as he tried to swallow, "Jayje! Run!"

"Are you nuts?" JJ bit out as Morgan fell forward, landing on the ground at her feet. Kneeling quickly, she screamed over her shoulder, "Tony! Help!"

Grabbing JJ's fingers as she felt for his pulse, Morgan managed, "You gotta run."

"I'm not leaving you," JJ yelled as she looked over her shoulder trying to spy Dinozzo, knowing that they had left him there just a scant half hour earlier. "You just stay with me!"

"Tired," Morgan mumbled, his head lolling as his eyes began to drift closed.

"Derek! Derek! Open your eyes," JJ screamed as she fumbled for her cell phone with numb fingers. "Wake up!" she ordered, her eyes darting around as she saw a figure running toward her. Grabbing her gun, she took aim, no longer able to distinguish between friend and foe. "Stop! FBI!"

"JJ?" the figure called back, jogging toward her. "What's happening?"

Hearing the familiar masculine voice, JJ relaxed slightly. Thank God!" "Where's Tony?" she yelled as the man drew closer, re-holstering her weapon as she spoke.

"Back there," she heard her savior say, gesturing behind him. "He had some kinda needle buried in his neck. He's unconscious. I called 911," the man answered, his voice worried. "They're on the way," he said as he reached her, falling to his knees beside her.

"What the hell happened to him?" he asked, nodding at the other man as JJ dropped her phone back to the ground and resumed calling Derek's name as she shook him.

"Blow dart," JJ whispered, nodding jerkily toward the discarded weapon Derek had dropped as he'd fallen. "Derek, open your eyes," she begged, slapping the black man's cheeks sharply.

"JJ, we need to get you to cover," the newcomer stated worriedly, glancing around them frantically. "We're in the open here."

"This is all my fault," JJ whispered as she felt him tug her arm. "All my fault," she repeated almost woodenly as she shook her head.

"JJ, we're exposed here. They'd want you safe," the man beside her stated again. "Come on," he growled, tugging her arm again.

Staring down into the slack face of her friend, JJ gently brushed her fingers against Derek's strong jaw. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "We'll find help," she promised him.

"Jennifer," the beside her said with soft patience, "I know you want to help your friend, but getting yourself killed isn't going to accomplish that," he said, surrounding her slim wrist with his hand again, his other hand sliding into his pocket. "I've always admired that heart of yours, you know, but..."

A chill shimmied down JJ's spine as she heard those softly spoken words...almost a croon and they seemed to reverberate in the air around her. "Oh my God," she breathed, her eyes traveling down to the hand around her arm. "It was you," she said, a teardrop falling on the small tattoo of a trident marring the inside of his wrist, peeking out from underneath his leather watch band. "My God, it was you!" she screamed as that gentle hand became an unforgiving manacle around her.

Knocking the gun from her hand with his free arm, Nick Hastings smiled coldly. "It's always nice when an old friend remembers you," he replied as he deftly slid a needle smoothly into her thigh.


	156. Chapter 155

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers. Just a brief note for you all today. For those interested, we have a new challenge up at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Sign-ups for our theme song challenge run through May 14, 2011. The rules are simple. Tell us your favorite character about which to write, the character you'd like to receive a story about AND what you envision that character's theme song being. We think it'll be a lot of fun and hope to see all of you there! All our best!**_

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Five**

Before Aaron even brought the SUV to a halt, Dave had already unsnapped his seat belt and thrown open the door. The moment his feet hit the ground, his eyes were scanning the area around the seemingly innocent barn, the supposed peacefulness broken by the half-dozen squad cars, federal vehicles, and an ambulance hastily parked near the wooden fence.

He saw his team members kneeling over DiNozzo's prone body, and he let out a dark curse as he saw Dr. Mallard moving toward what appeared to be Derek Morgan. Neither men were moving, and Dave's heart clenched even tighter.

"Jennifer!" he called out as he stalked toward the area, his eyes searching frantically for any sign of her blonde hair.

Hotch caught up with him at that moment, grabbing his arm. "Dave, she's not here. Agent David has already performed a full perimeter search."

"Her horse?" Dave snapped back, jerking his arm away from Hotch's restraining hold. Jerking his head toward the pawing white steed in the nearby paddock, he demanded, "Her horse made it back. Where is she?"

The sheriff stepped forward then, followed by a tall man wearing a Western cut shirt and worn jeans. "Agent Rossi," the sheriff said as he tipped back his hat, hitching his belt into place. "According to Nick, here, he was working in the barn when he heard a big commotion. Came out to see Dinozzo there on the ground and that other fellow collapsed over by the fence."

Turning wild eyes toward the stable hand, Rossi grabbed his shirt, yanking the wide eyed man to him. "Where the hell is she? Where's JJ?"

"A-agent Rossi, I don't know, sir. I was a little busy tryin to help Agent Dinozzo breathe. Then I caught sight of Agent Morgan in the distance, but I never laid eyes on Jenny. I yelled for her, but never saw or heard anything!"

"Damn it," Rossi growled, shoving the less than helpful man backward, turning away and missing the flash in the other man's eyes. "Hotch, lock this area down in a five...no, a ten mile perimeter," he demanded loudly. "They can't have gotten very far!"

"It's already in progress," Hotch said, looking away from the two deputies briefing him on the search they were organizing for the wooded area surrounding the farm.

Staring at Nick again, Dave fought to control his temper. It wasn't the farmhand's fault that JJ had been taken. He was a menial worker earning minimal wages. Obviously, he'd assisted where he could. Forcing himself to maintain control, he said tightly, "Look, Nick. I need you to tell me everything you remember. No detail is too small to include here. And it could mean JJ's life."

Staring back at the worried man in front of him, Nick could barely contain his glee, but he schooled his face into the appropriately horrified face of a concerned citizen. He had six hours, though, before JJ even began to stir in the trunk of his car, the sedative long lasting and effective. He'd tested it numerous times before relying on it to contain her. He definitely had time to play his part in this farce of so-called law enforcement agents.

"Don't know what I can say that I ain't said already, sir," Nick muttered as he shook his head regretfully. Forcing himself to shudder, he stared at the ground for a second before lifting his gaze to the dark eyes of both David Rossi and Jason Gideon. "It was terrible. Just terrible," he mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his forehead and doing a convincing imitation of rattled country bumpkin, if he did say so himself.

"Just start at the beginning, Nick," Gideon ordered sharply, stepping up beside his team members. "What alerted you to the situation here on the farm? A scream? A gunshot? What, damn it? We've got two missing women and not a hell of a lot of time to find them.

Ain't that the truth, Nick thought happily. And they're right here under your arrogant noses, too. "No, no, nothing like that," Nick denied as he shook his head quickly. "I was just inside the barn getting ready to shoe a couple of those mares," he stated, gesturing behind him toward his conveniently laid out supplies. "And I heard sort of a grunt. Then it sounded like a body fallin'. By the time I got out here, that NCIS agent was down like a sack of potatoes, syringe buried to the hilt in his jugular. He seemed to be breathin' all right, so I went on and called 911."

"Okay, after the phone call what happened?" Aaron Hotchner asked, joining his two colleagues.

"Well, ain't every day I stumble on a body," Nick lied, widening his eyes as he glanced around. "I guess I panicked a bit and started lookin' around for help. That's when I spotted your other agent, lying in that clearing over there."

"Did you assist him as well?" Gideon asked, his jaw clenching as he looked over his shoulder at where Morgan was currently being loaded into a waiting ambulance.

"Best as I could. I ran over and checked to see if he was breathin'," Nick said as he shrugged. "He was. But his chest was rising real shallow like. I think he might be in worse shape than the NCIS fella."

Jaw tightening, Rossi resisted the urge to throttle the man standing in front of him. "But you didn't see any sign of JJ? No noise at all."

"It was quiet as a tomb, Agent Rossi. Eeriest thing," Nick murmured, pulling a grimace. "It's like she was taken by some kind of ghost."

"No," Dave hissed, his fist striking the trunk of Nick's car, causing the other man to jump. "I can promise you that this prick is anything but a ghost. This soulless monster is very, very real. And he's now living on borrowed time. I guarantee that," he said, slamming his hand viciously against the trunk again.

Sweating, Nick looked from one man to the other. "Look, agents, I'm a little rattled here and wouldn't mind findest the nearest bar for a beer. Ya'll may be used to this, but I'm not."

"Did the officers get your contact information, Mr. Hastings?" Hotch asked, all business as he took a step forward.

Nick nodded readily. "Sure did. Home and cell phone numbers both. And everybody knows I stay in the bunkhouse."

"Just be available for questions, Mr. Hastings," Hotch ordered as he nodded at him before turning watchful eyes to a raging Rossi.

"We'll be in touch," Gideon added, watching as Nick quickly moved to the driver's side door.

Watching as the farmhand drove away, trailing a sheen of dust in his wake, Hotch exchanged a grim look with Gideon. "We need to get to work."


	157. Chapter 156

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers. Just a brief note for you all today. For those interested, we have a new challenge up at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Sign-ups for our theme song challenge run through May 14, 2011. The rules are simple. Tell us your favorite character about which to write, the character you'd like to receive a story about AND what you envision that character's theme song being. We think it'll be a lot of fun and hope to see all of you there! All our best!**_

_**Also, the second annual Profiler's Choice Awards ARE on the horizon. Please visit our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" to read the details we have released about this year's awards and offer your opinion on any changes or things you'd like to see this year. It's right around the corner!**_

_**Don't forget, there are ONLY two more days to sign-up for the theme song challenge! Come join us, guys - I think we'll have a lot of fun!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Six**

Pushing her dark hair over her shoulder as she jogged up next to her NCIS colleague and boss, Ziva David cocked her head as she saw the distinctive way that Jethro Gibbs' eyes were narrowing as he stared after the retreating car. She knew that look. And it didn't bode well for anyone.

"Ducky reports that Tony's vital signs are strong and steady," Ziva reported, letting out a deep sigh as she glanced over her shoulder at the group gathered near the fence. "The drug appears to have merely sedated him, but Ducky wants him to go to hospital anyway. Tony is...resistant."

Gibbs merely nodded, which confused Ziva even more.

Letting out an impatient sigh, she huffed, "Gibbs! Are you even listening to me now?"

"Heard everything you've said, Agent David," Gibbs replied calmly, slowly turning toward her. Shifting his hat back on his head, he nodded as he said, "Keeping both my eyes and my ears open." Seeing the confused look on her face, he asked, "Rule thirty five, Ziva."

"Always watch the watchers," Ziva intoned automatically, the words slipping out without thought. Her eyes widened as she realized his implications. Turning to stare across the drive, she asked, "And that man…that horse-person? He was your watcher?"

Gaze hardening as he watched Nick Hastings glance over his shoulder for the third time on his hasty trek to his parked car, Gibbs frowned. "Don't know. But you're going to find out. Follow him. Take Reid with you and stay in radio contact."

"I hardly think the genius doctor will be of assistance in a punch, Gibbs," Ziva smirked as her eyes, too, followed the furtive trainer.

"He's better than nothing," Gibbs replied, ignoring her word gaffe as he often did. It wasn't worth the energy it took to correct her. Not when he needed all his faculties to deal with the situation right in front of him. "I'll make sure Tony follows Ducky's advice. Grab that doc and go."

Nodding once, Ziva gestured toward Reid. "Doctor!" she called, quickly motioning again when the younger man obviously didn't hear her. Hearing Hastings car engine fire, Ziva glanced over her shoulder. Damn it! Watching as another officer caught Reid's attention, she shook her head she made her decision. Gibbs might be angry later, but better to ask forgiveness than permission. Jogging toward her own vehicle, she quickly slid behind the wheel.

XXX

Releasing his breath as he pulled onto the main highway, Nick smiled tightly. His victory was just within sight. Just a few miles and he'd be able to explore the side of himself that sometimes terrified even him. But that was a thought for another day.

He had far more important things to focus on now.

"Soon, my heart," he said aloud, glancing behind him into the backseat, his angel covered by a roughened horse blanket. "Soon it'll be just us. It won't take a minute to dispose of the lovely Sheriff. I have what I need from her. It'll just be you and I as it should have been all those years ago. You gave a wonderful chase, but I've got you now. And I'm never letting you go."

Reaching one hand into the backseat to remove the blanket, Nick's hand stalled as he noted the dark sedan behind him. Quickly drawing back, he gripped the steering wheel.

"Damn it," he hissed, checking his rearview mirror as he changed lanes, the car behind him following suit. Heart pounding, he accelerated slightly, carefully to keep his speed under the limit. Relaxing slightly as the car behind him veered onto an exit ramp, he smiled again.

He was safe and so was his prize. Nothing was going wrong this time.

And this time, he was going to have all the time in the world to cherish his beloved treasure.

XXX

Following at a sedate distance, Ziva's eyes narrowed as Hastings resumed his previous speed. Praying this wasn't a wild goose chase, she watched as he turned off onto a gravel road. Now came the tricky part. Staying anonymous on a busy country road was one thing. Remaining that way on a deserted, barely used path was something else entirely. Pulling over, she waited a full minute before executing the turn as well.

The dust cast from disturbing the rocks on the road would guide her. She didn't necessarily need to see the vehicle. In fact, it was better that she didn't. If she couldn't visualize her prey, he couldn't see his hunter. And that was exactly the way she wanted it.

Downshifting so that the engine of her vehicle barely produced a hum, she pushed the button lowering the car's windows and listened, the sound of cracking rocks echoing through the air. Grimly pulling over to the edge of the road as she heard the distinct sound of a slamming car door twenty minutes later, she slid soundlessly out her door, her footsteps silent as she cut through the woods following the direction of the sound.

Narrowing her eyes, she scanned the horizon, searching for the point of optimal visual advantage. Spotting a gap in the trees, she quickly made her way toward it, stepping carefully over the brush. Finding her target, her nostrils flared as she spotted the horse trainer as he opened the back door of his own sedan.

Seconds later as he lifted what appeared to be a blanket wrapped form from the interior, she wasted no time as she reached for her phone, quickly hitting send. Silently cursing the remote location as she searched for a viable signal, she grimaced as he walked toward the cabin.

Barely resisting the urge to hurl the phone away and charge the cabin, instead she arduously climbed down the steep incline of the hill. Finding a bar of signal a few footsteps later, she clicked the green button on her phone, waiting impatiently.

"Gibbs," she heard her boss bark a moment later.

"Target acquired," she whispered into the phone. "He has the package. Your gut was right, Gibbs!"

"Ziva?" Gibbs yelled into his cell phone as Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi turned to look at him. "Ziva, speak up!"

Shooting a worried look toward the structure Hastings had disappeared into, she hissed, "Not possible. You were right! Hastings has Agent Jareau."

"You're sure?" Gibbs asked sharply, Ziva's voice distant but clear. "Where are you?"

"What's going on?" Ziva heard Rossi's worried voice ask through the crackling phone connection.

"All Mossad agents are required to have twenty-twenty vision, Gibbs," Ziva retorted, rolling her eyes in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "I have visual confirmation. Do I approach?"

"No!" Gibbs yelled, frantically motioning for the other agents who had turned in his direction. "Where are you?"

Turning to look around to search for some sort of landmark, Ziva frowned as she suddenly realized that the phone was no longer even making that strange buzzing sound. Glancing down at her phone, she winced.

No bars. No signal.

No Gibbs.

She was on her own.


	158. Chapter 157

**_Hello, friends! We've got sign-ups going on for or newest "Writers of the Silver Screen" challenge. Check it out. We think it'll be a lot of fun. We also have a mini-challenge in progress for the departing character of Ashley Seaver (no sign-up for this one. Just write a story following the guidelines and link it to the thread on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum._**

**_Oh, and we're having a lot of fun over at Facebook. To join in the conversations, simply friend "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction". That's me. I'll get you added as quickly as possible. It's just another way for we writers and readers to communicate. And I love to hear from y'all._**

**_Gotta take a second to thank all our loyal readers for sticking with us. Tonnie and I are having a blast bringing y'all stories. We do want to let you know that our posts may be a tad bit slower over the next few weeks. Tracia's husband is now home from Afghanistan on mid-tour leave (Hallelujah!) and Tonnie's real life is a bouncing handful right now (also a Hallelujah, just a bit more subdued!) We appreciate your support, and we are diligently working on all of our epics and many new oneshots!_**

**_Now, on with the show..._**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Seven**

"Ziva? Answer me. That's an order," Gibbs ordered gruffly, his fingers flexed around his cell phone.

Cursing as he stared down at the now silent phone in his hand, LeRoy Jethro Gibbs clenched his jaw in anger. "God damn it!" he ground it, lifting his arm and rubbing a hand vigorously over the top of his head.

"What's happened?" Rossi demanded, his shoulders ramrod straight as he stared at the other agent, his eyes boring into the clear gaze of Jethro Gibbs.

"Hastings has JJ. Agent David got a visual," Gibbs replied brusquely, lips pressed tightly together.

Rossi's hand landed on his gun as he turned toward the nearest vehicle. "Then why the hell are we standing here? We need to…"

"Phone cut out. David didn't give coordinates," Gibbs interrupted with a shake of his head, his voice filled with disgust as he slammed his phone against his hip.

"Well get her the hell back!" Dave exploded, stomping toward Gibbs. "Now!" he roared.

Aaron Hotchner glanced from one man to another as he immediately reached for his own phone. "Is Agent David's phone equipped with the homing beacon that NSA released last month?"

"Hell if I know," Gibbs snorted, his own thoughts growing darker with each passing second. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he added, "McGee did something to the damn phones a few weeks ago though. Put some sort of chit or chip thing in them, I think."

Nodding once, Hotch smiled grimly at that knowledge. "Then let's get Garcia tracking."

Pacing back and forth the gravel drive, Dave's stomach clenched in fear. The bastard had been right underneath their noses...just biding his time waiting and watching. Calculating every goddamned move he made for optimal effect.

And the son of a bitch had achieved it, too. He'd slipped right past his defenses and taken what he valued most in the world.

Jennifer.

His Jennifer.

And bowing his head as he heard Hotch talking to their technical genius, David Rossi began to pray.

Watching from a small distance away as Hotch quietly spoke to Garcia, ordering her to track the signal on Ziva's phone, Gibbs cast a sidelong glance at a waiting, pale Dr. Reid. "Okay, you guys are profilers. Based on your experience, how long do we have?" Gibbs asked quietly, wincing as Dave's fist connected with the hood of the SUV.

Closing his eyes a moment in an effort to quell the violent fear coursing through his veins, Reid swallowed. The monster had JJ. He knew what it was like to face a demon. He'd done it and barely survived. The difference was, he'd killed his tormentor. Hers had her in his clutches for the second time in a lifetime. Those were not good odds…no matter what form of higher math he used to calculate them.

"Dr. Reid?" Gibbs prodded roughly.

Blinking rapidly, Reid said hoarsely with an uneasy look at a curiously still Jason Gideon, "I hate to say it, but now that Hastings has JJ, he'll probably eliminate Anne quickly. JJ is his stressor...his trigger. He'll want to take his time. He'll savor it. If Anne is still alive, she probably has only a few hours left. For JJ...I'd estimate twelve to fourteen. He thinks he's made a clean getaway. Time won't be a motivating factor for him."

"And Ziva?" Gibbs questioned tightly, his hands balling into fists at his side.

"If Ziva is caught..." Reid licked his lips, struggling for words. "He'll consider her collateral damage."

"Fuck," Gibbs hissed, stabbing the numbers to Ziva's cell phone again.

"What do you mean that whack job got my Gumdrop?" Penelope Garcia shrieked into her Unit Chief's ear. "How? Oh, God, what about Derek?"

"And Tony?" Abby yelped, pressing her ear next to Garcia's as she shamelessly listened to the conversation.

"Both Morgan and DiNozzo are on their way to the hospital. It was an ambush," Hotch explained quickly, lifting a hand to press against his temple as his mind searched for a way to calm the two emotional women. "Ducky expects them both to be fine. They were sedated, but not in imminent jeopardy."

"Unlike my Buttercup," Garcia yelped, tears springing to her normally bright eyes as she clutched Abby's hand like a lifeline.

"Look," Hotch said authoritatively, well aware of the need to channel Garcia's efforts, "I need you both to focus right now. You two are our best chance at finding JJ and Anne alive. I need you to track Ziva's cell phone."

"Ziva?" Abby frowned. "You mean this jerk got Ziva, too?" she asked frantically.

"No, not exactly," Hotch said as he winced, hearing the agitation rising between the two women. Watching as Emily approached, he rolled his eyes. "Both of you, focus. Ziva followed Hastings to his location. She managed to get a call out to Agent Gibbs but lost signal during the call."

"Why am I not surprised," Garcia groaned, her fingertips already reaching for the keyboard.

"Garcia, I need you to trace her phone. If we find Ziva, then we find JJ," Hotch informed her urgently. "But time is of the essence here."

Fingers flying, Garcia replied, "Already moving, sir." Narrowing her eyes on the screen, she shook her head. "Is her phone still on?" Garcia asked.

"I assume so," Hotch said impatiently. "She just called Jethro!"

"Sir, I'm not picking up a signal anywhere," Garcia frowned, typing faster. "It's like she disappeared. I'm pulling her call log," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

"Garcia, we need that information," Hotch bit out.

"I can't give you what I don't have access to," Garcia stated desperately. "Wait!" she yelped, locking onto a signal as Ziva's phone suddenly activated again. "I'm tracing!" she yelled as Abby's cell phone rang.

"Hello?" Abby said, absently answering the ringing phone as she watched Penelope type frantically, hitting the speaker phone button by habit.

"I've almost got it!" she muttered.

"Garcia, you've got to hurry."

"You're too late," a calm voice announced, tangible evil radiating throughout the small office they sat inside.

Fingers freezing, Garcia's eyes widened as the voice resonated in the air and the signal on her screen suddenly extinguished.

Dropping her own phone, Abby screamed.

"Garcia!" Hotch barked, hearing the terrified sound through his own phone.

"He just called Abby! The son of a bitch called Abby!" Garcia gasped. "Hotch, I think he just got Ziva, too."


	159. Chapter 158

**_Hello, friends! Our newest challenge has just been posted on our forum, and we want you to join us in "The Dog Days of Summer". We've added a twist to this challenge...the story must be told from the point of view of one of the BAU's members PET! Please check out the forum to sign up...you can access the forum from ilovetvalot's profile page. Today, July 31, is the last day to sign up!_**

**_Oh, and we're having a lot of fun over at Facebook. To join in the conversations, simply friend "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction". That's me. I'll get you added as quickly as possible. It's just another way for we writers and readers to communicate. And I love to hear from y'all._**

**_Gotta take a second to thank all our loyal readers for sticking with us. Tonnie and I are having a blast bringing y'all stories. We do want to let you know that our posts may be a tad bit slower over the next few weeks as we readjust to our ever changing lives. We appreciate your support, and we are diligently working on all of our epics and many new oneshots!_**

**_Now, on with the show..._**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Eight**

Ziva heard the footsteps behind her, her hearing far more acute than that of the average human. But even her advanced sensory perception did not provide her with enough warning to halt the attack that was certain to come. The best she could hope for was to lessen the damage.

She felt the air whish against her shoulder as she pivoted on her left foot, well aware that the average human always attacked to his right. But while she was correct in that analysis, she foolishly hadn't taken into account the fact that she was dealing with a serial killer who had managed to take down three other members of her team that day.

She felt the jab in her hip, the needle jamming into her muscle with a ferocity that she hadn't experienced since she had been kidnapped a few years prior. In the last seconds she fought to remain conscious, she had the final presence of mind to aim one last kick, causing her attacker to release the plunger before even a fourth of the dose entered her system.

Maybe it was enough, she thought frantically before her mind suddenly faded to fuzzy grey.

She could feel herself being pulled along, her feet dragging against the forest floor. Her ears still managed to hear twinges of speech, her befuddled mind realizing that the her captor was speaking to someone. She strained mightily to hear another voice, to listen for a response, but couldn't.

What seemed to be long minutes later, she felt herself fall against a hard surface, the drugs dimming some of the damage that she was certain had been done to her body. Now she could hear another voice, and this time she was certain it was a female's.

"Nnnnghhh," Ziva groaned, forcing her heavy eyelids open only to be met with inky darkness. Lifting her hands, she realized they'd been tied together with some kind of coarse rope. "Well," she muttered as she turned her head and inhaled deeply, the scent of damp earth thick in the cool air, "this is a sticky picket."

"I'm pretty sure you mean wicket," a hoarse, disembodied voice replied from somewhere on Ziva's left.

Stiffening on the ground, Ziva's head jerked toward the sound of the voice, automatically trying to move her legs and finding them, too, bound. "Who is there?" she barked, kicking her heels against the ground.

"Jeez, if you guys have already forgotten about me, I really am seriously screwed," the voice remarked weakly.

Narrowing her eyes at the darkness as she realized that she recognized that voice, Ziva whispered, "Ann?"

"Yeah, it's me," Ann whispered, swallowing painfully as she attempted to lift her head. "He threw me down here after he brought in JJ. She was unconscious," Ann replied worriedly. "Please tell me the rest of your team knows she's gone already," Ann begged threadily, white hot pain searing her abdomen as she attempted to move again. Moaning, she concentrated on not losing consciousness….which was a far harder task than she ever realized.

"Ann? Ann!" Ziva whispered frantically, rolling her body toward the sound of Ann's voice. "Are you injured?" she asked, silently cursing the darkness, as rocks and gravel raked against her bare arms.

"You might say that," Ann panted, dropping her head back against the ground as a wave of dizziness flooded her. Stay awake, she ordered herself grimly. You have to stay awake and tell Ziva what you know. Fighting her way through the pain, Ann continued, "The bastard took my kidney, I think. I've lost a lot of blood."

Stilling instantly, Ziva's mind sputtered to a momentary halt. Had she just said kidney? "You are sure?"

"Well, I'm pretty positive. The big gash in my abdomen indicates he took something. And the organ he showed me in the jar was definitely a kidney. You do the math and see what you get," Ann said sarcastically, letting out a whoosh of air as she tried to control the pain.

"I am sorry," Ziva apologized softly. "How much pain are you in?" she asked, continuing to try to move across the dirt floor toward her co-hostage.

"Never mind me," Ann countered as she shook her head, her head scraping against the ground. "What about JJ? Did you see her when he brought you in? Was she still alive? I haven't heard anything from up there," she said, staring up at the low ceiling of their makeshift prison.

"I saw nothing," Ziva said roughly, disappointed in herself. "He caught me from behind when he captured me. Knocked me out with some kind of drug."

"Yeah, he's a peach with those syringes, isn't he?" Ann noted bitterly. "You should start to feel clearer soon. You've been down here a while. We both have."

Bumping Ann as she rolled again, Ziva flinched when the other woman groaned softly. "I am sorry," Ziva whispered over her shoulders. "Are your hands restrained also, Ann?

""Nuh uh," Ann grunted, squinting in the darkness as Ziva sat up beside her and scooted toward her again. "He didn't bother the last time he threw me down in this hole. I think he knew I was too weak to even bother fighting him anymore," she added tiredly.

Hearing the defeat etching the other woman's voice, Ziva assured her, "We're going to get out of here, Ann. All of us."

Shaking her head, Ann whispered, "Just get JJ out. I'm already gone, Ziva."

"Do not say that," Ziva ordered in a hard voice, squaring her shoulders as she scooted against the ground. "All is not lost.

""Have you looked around Ziva? We're in a goddamn cellar. I thought Gibbs said you were Mossad. Aren't you guys supposed to be pros at recognizing a dire situation?" Ann muttered, hissing in pain when Ziva brushed against her again.

"I am Mossad. And by telling me we're in a cellar, you just told me that there is one way in and one way out. We'll be able to know when he's coming."

"Yeah, I thought that would help, too. Unfortunately, he always comes armed with a needle," Ann sighed.

"He's not the only one still armed," Ziva breathed. "Ann, I need you to help me. In my jeans, there is a secret pocket. Can you slide your hand inside and retrieve my knife? I need to free my hands."

Blinking, Ann turned her head toward the sound of Ziva's accented voice. "A knife?" she whispered. "You built a knife into your jeans?" she whispered, reaching out a hand to feel for Ziva's leg.

"Mossad agents are very...resourceful," Ziva nodded, feeling Ann's tentative fingers sliding inside the back of her jeans.

"I got it," Ann whispered, grimacing as she tried to sit up and falling backward in pain.

"Do not move, Ann. Just put the blade in my hands," Ziva said, keeping her voice low as she listened to the other woman's heavy breathing.

"'kay," Ann agreed, feeling Ziva's palm close around hers.

Quickly slicing through the rope binding her wrists, Ziva moved to free her legs and turned on her knees to bend over Ann. "Other than your kidney, are you injured anywhere else?" she asked, hovering above the fallen Deputy as her hand touched the other woman's clammy forehead.

"No, I don't think so. Ziva, do you know where we are? I was unconscious when he brought me in here. I didn't see anything until we got inside the cabin and in these parts, one cabin could be twenty."

"Yes. I followed him here. We turned off the central Highway onto a county road about three miles outside the town limits going west. A Piney Shade Road, I think. Then we took a rock road about six hundred meters in. It led to this cabin. I got through to Gibbs on my cell phone once and lost the signal. It was while I was trying to reconnect that he ambushed me."

Closing her eyes, Ann inhaled sharply. "I know where we are," she breathed. "This is Temple Grandin's old hunting shack. I knew I recognized it. My dad brought JJ and me here as kids."

"Is this a good thing?" Ziva asked quickly, her fingers cataloguing the shallow walls of their prison even as she spoke.

"Depends on if the team managed to triangulate a signal for the phone. This place is so secluded that unless they get a bead on our location, they'll never think about it. But, provided they do," Ann said hopefully, a glimmer of faith starting to grow, "Gibbs is going to know this is the only cabin around for miles. He'll know where we are."

"He'll remember this place?" Ziva asked bluntly. "He hasn't called Sunshine home for some years."

"Some things you don't forget," Ann replied quietly, closing her eyes as another wave of pain assailed her battered body. "This was his and Shannon's secret spot."


	160. Chapter 159

_**NEW**__** Author's Note: Hi, guys! We've got a few notes for you today. First up, our new challenge "The Colors of the Rainbow" Prompt Challenge is now AVAILABLE for sign-up on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. It looks like it's going to shape up into a fun challenge. Check it out.**_

_**Tonnie and I are diligently working toward our nomination ballot on the second annual "Profilers Choice Awards" hosted by Chit Chat on Author's corner forum. Our tentative date to release the categories, informational post and NOMINATION BALLOT is 8/28/11. One week, guys. So, put on your reading hat and look for those stories and authors you adore. Any of our fellow authors, please feel free to promote the awards as well. The more the merrier and we can use all the help we can get!**_

_**Additionally, we'll have some new posts going up at the forum this week. So, skip over and take a look.**_

_**Also, we're continuing to have oodles of fun with our fellow authors and readers over on facebook. I'm getting to know a lot of wonderful people over there and we've got quite the support system going. Feel free to come join the fun. Simply "friend" Ilovetvalot Fanfiction. I'll be sure to accept.**_

_**Also, we love hearing from you. So, drop a review if you have the time. They truly make our day.**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Nine**

David Rossi had known fear before in his life. He'd stared down death more times than he cared to think about, but never had he felt such an all-encompassing, overwhelming horror shadow his soul as he did at that exact moment. Knowing that someone he loved was in the hands of a monster capable of anything...that knowledge threatened to unravel him.

"What do you mean, we can't track her?" Rossi demanded loudly as he stared at Aaron Hotchner, desperation edging his tone as he barely resisted the urge to pound his fist into the nearest person.

Pressing his phone closer to his ear as he attempted to listen to Garcia and placate Rossi at the same time, Hotch said as calmly as possible, "I didn't say that, Dave. Garcia is trying to pull up the last coordinates that transmitted. It's going to take a few more seconds."

"Damn it, Hotch, nobody's got a few seconds to spare!" Rossi narrowed his eyes as he turned his gaze back toward Gibbs. "And Agent David didn't say anything else?"

But before Gibbs could reply, Hotch waved a hand in the open air between them as he spoke into the phone. "Got it, Garcia. Send the coordinates now with a map immediately," he ordered, his feet already moving toward their SUV.

Rossi let out a whoosh of air as he felt his lungs suddenly loosen. "She got something?" he asked, quickly following the unit chief.

Nodding tersely as he stared down at his phone, Hotch muttered, "All of us should be getting the coordinates and map soon. Ziva's phone transmitted just enough to bounce off the right number of sats, apparently."

Holding his own cell phone in a grip that threatened to crush it, Rossi waited impatiently for the message. Damning the technologically deficient instrument down to the ninth realm of hell, he growled, "Is anybody else getting it?"

"Dave, take a breath," Gideon ordered, his own voice tight as he stared down at his own phone, silently willing it to beep. He, too, was aware of what these precious seconds ticking by might be costing Anne and JJ. His gut tightened painfully as his mind flashed to an image of Anne, her beautiful face relaxed in sleep facing him on the pillow next to him. Blinking rapidly, he forced the memory away, concentrating instead on the window of his cell phone.

"C'mon, c'mon," Dave bit out, running one hand around the back of his neck, his muscles tightening into taut wires.

"There!" Hotch said anxiously as four phones beeped simultaneously.

Narrowing his eyes as the glare from the sun distorted the display, Dave fished his glasses out of his shirt pocket, shoving them on his nose as he squinted at the phone. "Where the fuck is Mossbed Road?" Jesus, this town had more godforsaken roads than any hick town he'd ever been in...and they all seemed to lead to nowhere.

"Off Highway 61 on the far east side of town," Gibbs answered immediately as he grabbed his keys out of his pocket. "Get in," he ordered the rest of the men as he motioned toward the nearby vehicle, "I know where he's taken them!"

"Where?" Dave barked, climbing into the passenger seat as Hotch and Gideon climbed into the back. "The only thing out that road besides farmland and trees is an old hunting shack back on Russell Grady's land. Damn thing was falling down the last time I was out there, but it has a cellar he could use to keep a hostage in."

"How long since you've seen it?" Hotch asked, punching Garcia's number back into his phone. "Three, maybe four years," Gibbs replied, pressing down on the accelerator quickly, spinning gravel as they pulled out on the paved road, their vehicle followed closely by Reid and Prentiss and several cruisers. "Shannon and I used to meet out there back when we were dating. It's exactly what he would've been looking for. Secluded. No traffic. Plenty of privacy."

"Not anymore," Rossi growled darkly, his eyes scanning the countryside as the car flew down the country road. If he ever got his hands on Hastings, he'd rip the man limb from limb. Swallowing hard as he imagined the terror Jennifer must be feeling right now, his hand tightened into a fist.

Gibbs kept his eyes trained straight ahead as his foot pressed harder against the narrow gas pedal. "Listen up. We'll do best to go in from the south. The cover's heavier from that direction, and we run less risk of exposure," he told them, his mind already navigating the twisting roads on that side of the county. "There's a road that the lumber company used to use...Sawhoarse Road. It'll bring us in at the back of the cabin. We'll have to cross a narrow creak, but it'll offer us a better vantage point of the place. I doubt Hastings even knows about it. Only the locals know it exists and it hasn't been used in years."

Hotch nodded once as he tapped quickly on his cell keypad. "I'm relaying our plans to Garcia so she can coordinate. With any luck, we'll have choppers headed our way just about the time we find them."

"Medics, too," Gideon added heavily, well aware that Anne could very well already be dead. "Got it," Hotch replied shortly, then let out a short curse. "Cell connection's fading. We must be getting farther out of range."

"Which is apparently what happened to Ziva," Gibbs replied, whipping quickly around a shadowed curve. "At least I sure as hell hope that's all it is."

"How fucking far is this place?" Dave growled, checking his gun, forcing his mind to focus on the simple mechanics.

"About ten minutes. Dave, my sniper rifle is under the seat," Gibbs said, nodding toward the floorboard. "Load it for me, will ya?"

"You think you can get a vantage point for a shot?" Dave asked, reaching under the seat for the weapon, his fingers easily recognizing the metal barrel.

"Rule 23," Gibbs replied evenly, his fingers gripping the steering wheel more tightly.

Rolling his eyes as he reached for the box of ammo on the center console, Rossi muttered, "Another fucking rule? Really? Now?"

"Never hurts to be prepared for anything," Gibbs recited from memory as he rounded a curve and headed deeper into the woods.


	161. Chapter 160

_**/***NOMINATE, NOMINATE, NOMINATE YOUR FAVORITE STORIES AND AUTHORS IN THE SECOND ANNUAL PROFILER'S CHOICE CM AWARDS HOSTED BY CHIT CHAT ON AUTHOR'S CORNER FORUM! DON'T KNOW HOW? SEE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER!***/**_

**BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: In an effort to encourage our fellow authors and readers to take a moment and nominate their favorite fics and authors in the Profiler's Choice CM Awards hosted by "Chit Chat on Author's Corner", we will be offering two $10.00 Amazon gift cards to two randomly selected nominators. The only rule is that you must nominate in at least TEN categories! Winners will be announced October 16! So put on those thinking caps and NOMINATE!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Sixty**

David Rossi felt his chest tightening as the vehicle slowed, then finally came to a stop at the edge of a shadow-covered weathered barn. Glancing around, he met Gibbs' eyes as he asked, shortly, "We're here?"

"We're as close as we're going to drive in," Gibbs answered, killing the engine and reaching for his back up gun at his ankle. Efficiently checking his ammunition, he slid the firearm back into place, then reached across and grabbed the rifle from Dave's hand. "It'll take about five minutes to hike into place so that we can get a good visual."

Four heavy doors opened simultaneously, the latch clicks almost as loud as bullet cracks in the otherwise silent woods. Motioning toward the back of the nearby barn, Gibbs ordered quietly, "We need to approach from the south. The cover is heavier that way. Once we hit the open, we'll need to split into two teams so that we can enter front and back." He paused, then added, "If we can draw him out or even get him near a window or entry, I'll take the shot."

Nodding, Aaron motioned to Dave, "Gibbs, you're with me. Rossi, you're with Gideon. Prentiss, Reid...you stay here and wait for back up. Radio in and remind them to come in silent. No sirens, no lights. We don't want to risk spooking him."

"Just like old times," Gideon muttered, checking his own weapon.

"No shots fired unless its clean," Rossi growled, eyes scanning the area around them. "I don't want to risk hitting JJ or Anne. God knows what condition we'll find them in," he added ominously, already fearing the worst.

"Or Ziva," Gibbs added, his growl as meaningful as Dave's.

"You think he has her?" Hotch asked the stoic man coldly shoving an extra clip in his jacket.

"She would have found a way to check in if he hadn't," Gibbs said softly. "And if he got the drop on Ziva, then he's more fucking adept than we ever gave him credit for."

"How long has he had JJ?" Spencer asked worriedly, staring down at his watch as his stomach churned.

"Forty-seven fucking minutes too goddamned long," Rossi spat, offering Gideon a sidelong look. "Let's go. We'll go in through the brush," he told Gibbs.

"We'll take the high road and try to get around the front of the cabin," Gibbs stated evenly, his eyes already scanning the horizon. With any luck, nightfall will help us soon."

"Let's just get this done," Gideon murmured, striding toward the woods after Rossi. Uncertain what he would find once there, he tried to bury those feelings. Borrowing trouble wouldn't solve anything. Not for JJ and Anne. Not for himself. Not for any of them.

"I can not fucking believe we're trekking through the goddamned woods after this sick fuck for the second time in our goddamn lives," Rossi quietly ranted, jerking branches out of his way as he stepped carefully through the brush, cautious of making too much noise. "He didn't terrorize her enough...he waited all these years to drag her back into hell. And for what?" he hissed.

"You know that no answer he gives us is ever gonna make any kind of logical sense, Dave," Gideon replied, keeping his voice low as his eyes scanned the woods, trying to spot the structure Hastings was keeping his hostages in. "In his eyes, JJ is the final piece of his collection. He has to have her."

"The hell he will," Dave bit out tightly, images of the broken little girl he'd pulled from that cabin years ago rising to taunt him. "He had his chance. He failed. He doesn't get a second go."

Nodding, Gideon kept his silence as he followed Dave through the woods. He could understand. Hell, he'd been there, too. Of all of them, only Rossi, JJ and himself were fully aware of what this unsub could do...what he was capable of doing. And it was chilling knowledge to possess.

Especially when they'd both somehow fallen in love with two of the women now inside that cabin.

"We're going to get them out, Dave," Gideon felt obliged to say, as much so he could hear the statement as to try and offer Dave some hope.

"You think so?" Dave grunted, slowing as he carefully slid down an incline.

"I sure as hell hope so," Gideon replied softly.

"She made you feel something," Rossi said perceptively, glancing over his shoulder at the other man. Seeing Gideon's lips tighten, Dave shrugged. "Don't get defensive. I'm in the same boat. I'd written off love after the third nightmare of a marriage. I was fully prepared to spend the rest of whatever life I had left alone. Safe."

"And then?" Gideon grunted, almost unwillingly.

"And then, JJ," Dave said softly. "From the moment I walked back into the BAU because your sorry ass had split, she had me over a barrel...and she didn't even realize it."

"That long, huh?" Gideon said, his lips lifting slightly as he reached a hand out to steady himself against a tree when his foot became entangled in the brush.

"She was so skittish of me though," Dave murmured. "It makes sense now...she was afraid I'd realize who she was and treat her differently..."

"Wouldn't you have?" Gideon asked, trying to keep his mind off what they might find in a matter of minutes.

"I honestly don't know," Dave replied softly. "All I'm sure of now, Gid, is that I can't lose her. Especially not to this bastard," he said, nodding into the distance. "What about you though? What's the deal between you and Anne?"

"I don't know," Gideon responded truthfully. "She makes me...human again. For the first time in God knows how long, I'm interested in something."

"She woke you up," Rossi murmured, well aware of exactly how the other man was feeling.

"I guess she did," Gideon conceded grimly as he let out a harsh sigh. "And if I don't get her out of that hell hole alive..."

"It's not an if, Gid. It's a win," David countered, his voice brooking no argument. Failure wasn't an option for either of them. Success was the only acceptable outcome. Especially if each of them was going to maintain their sanity. "I love her too much to lose her now."

"I get it, Dave," Gideon agreed softly, pausing when Rossi stopped abruptly in front of him, hunching down in the brush.

Pressing the earpiece into his ear, Rossi whispered into the mouthpiece, "Hotch, we've got a visual of the cabin."

* * *

_**Author's Note: Hello, Friends. A couple of announcements for all of you. First, you still have approximately TWO days to sign up for "The Masquerade Challenge" for October's on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. We also have a "Freaky Friday" mini-challenge in progress for those interested. Details for both can be found at the forum. We'd love to have all of you sign up. I think we'll have a lot of fun this Halloween Season.**_

_**Second, you all have a little less more than three weeks left to nominate stories for the second Annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards. The nomination ballot, rules and category summaries can be found at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. To reach that post please either take a trip to the forum OR links are provided on the profile pages of ilovetvalot, Profiler's Choice CM Awards AND tonnie2001969. Nomination ballots should be PM'd to the Profiler's Choice CM Awards ONLY. That link is also provided on the forum or the profile pages listed above. PLEASE REMEMBER, WITHOUT NOMINATED STORIES, THERE CAN BE NO AWARDS! SO, PLEASE, COME OUT AND SUPPORT YOUR FAVORITE FANFIC AUTHORS AND NOMINATE THOSE STORIES. **_

_**ALSO, we would love for our fellow author's to assist us in advertising these awards! Please feel free to copy and paste anything in this author's note or contact us for a pre-written blurb if you like.**_

_**And, please, everyone, feel free to join us over on Facebook! Simply search for "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" and friend me. We have scores of authors connected together and we'd love to see you there! **_

_**As ever, we appreciate every single one of you that takes the time to read and/or review our stories. Your valuable feedback is deeply appreciated and we love hearing from you!**_

_**And, if we haven't stated it before, we do not own Criminal Minds, but darn, we wish we did!**_


	162. Chapter 161

_**/***NOMINATE, NOMINATE, NOMINATE YOUR FAVORITE STORIES AND AUTHORS IN THE SECOND ANNUAL PROFILER'S CHOICE CM AWARDS HOSTED BY CHIT CHAT ON AUTHOR'S CORNER FORUM! DON'T KNOW HOW? SEE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER!***/**_

**BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: In an effort to encourage our fellow authors and readers to take a moment and nominate their favorite fics and authors in the Profiler's Choice CM Awards hosted by "Chit Chat on Author's Corner", we will be offering two $10.00 Amazon gift cards to two randomly selected nominators. The only rule is that you must nominate in at least TEN categories! Winners will be announced October 16! So put on those thinking caps and NOMINATE!**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-One**

She felt herself rolling, her body as heavy as a log soaked with a winter snow. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to control her movement. Frantically, she tried to clutch at something, anything, that would stop her, would give her some control.

But it wasn't there and she couldn't find it.

Her first coherent thought was that her head hurt. Oh, God, how it hurt. She wanted to lift her hand to press against the pain, but her fingers wouldn't obey even the simplest command. Move, she thought desperately, move. She had to escape this pain.

A sudden light flashed over her, and she tried to shift away from the glare. Noises were around her suddenly, the clicking and clattering of metal against metal, but she couldn't identify anything. What the hell was happening, she thought desperately.

Where was she?

A quick jab in her arm sent another wave of pain through her body, and she felt her world suddenly start to clear. Her eyes finally opened, and she blinked hard against the invasion of light.

"There she is," a voice said from beside her, and she felt roughened fingers harshly pat her cheek. "Can't have my Sleeping Beauty spending the entire day in la-la land, can we?"

She knew that voice. Where did she know that voice? Shifting heavily, her body still weighed down, she tried to focus on the face beside her. Who was that?

"Now, don't move too much or you're going to force me to undo all of my great work, Jennifer," said the voice again. "I'd hate to have to put you back to sleep. We have so much to catch up on, don't we?"

Her tongue lay thick in her mouth, and she tried to open her lips. A whisper finally emerged. "Wh..Who?"

"Oh, I'm hurt that you don't recognize me," the deep voice replied, an almost chuckle in the words. "After all the time we spent together all those years ago. It's a shame that memories fade, isn't it?"

She felt a tugging on her arm as her hand was pressed flat as cold metal was wrapped around her wrist. Trying to pull away, she moaned as the effort seemed to rack through her body.

"It will be so much better for you if you just hold still," the man advised. "Your sister learned that lesson a long time ago, you know."

Her sister. Her mind fought against the waves threatening to overtake her, memories ebbing and flowing quickly. She knew that voice. She had always known that voice. Faces merged in her mind, and she fought to force her eyes open.

And when she did, Jennifer Jareau found herself staring up into the face of the man that had killed her sister and tried to kill her all those years ago.

And if the maniacal glint in his eye was any indication, he was prepared to finish what he'd started that long ago night.

"W-Why?" JJ asked hoarsely, her tongue thick in her mouth as a wave of nausea rolled through her. Swallowing hard on the bile threatening to rise, she made herself blink...made herself concentrate on the face contorting into a malicious smile.

"Why?" he repeated, mimicking her tone. "Why do you think, Little Girl? You caused me no end of trouble. Then and now. Couldn't just die like the others, could you? No, you had to fight me. "The Girl Who Lived", if I remember correctly," he reminisced, gently caressing her face with the back of two fingers. "I made you famous."

"I didna want ta be famous," JJ slurred, trying to focus on her surroundings. Where the hell had he taken her?

"What you wanted didn't matter, sweetie. What I wanted didn't matter. Just think, if you'd been a good girl that night, this would have all been over quickly. Mercifully. But, instead, you fought me," he spat, his voice hardening as his gaze narrowed down on her. "So," he said, lowering his voice as he dropped a hand to her wrist, securing one of the straps holding her down, "unfortunately for you, this won't be quick. You and I are going to take our time and savor this."

"Nick," JJ said hoarsely, wincing as she spoke, the slight noise echoing over and over in her head, "don't do this. They know who you are now. You still have time to get 'way. Just leave me hear and run."

"Nick," he repeated mockingly, rolling his eyes as he tightened his grip around her skin. Meeting her gaze, he shook his head. "My name was never Nick. That was just the name of my first surgery."

"You mean your first kill?" JJ asked painfully, trying to shift her body on the hard metal table. She knew she had to keep him talking. It was imperative that she engage the target verbally, the rules of negotiating well ingrained in her mind, even in its drugged state.

"You say tomato," he sang, reaching out a long arm to snag an rolling instrument tray.

Catching her breath as she heard the wheels turning on the hardwood floor and the clatter of instruments shaking, JJ tried to think clearly. "Why? Why did you start...operating?" she asked, forcing herself to use his terminology, even if she hated the word. If she could engage him, she could buy herself time...valuable moments her team could use to find her.

Wait! No! Them. Ann was here, too wasn't she? God, please let her be here, JJ prayed.

"Ah," he breathed, propping one hand against the table as he stared down into her terrified eyes, "so the patient is curious about the doctor, is she? I'm sorry," he said with false sympathy, clucking his tongue. "But, this isn't exactly an AMA sanctioned activity."

Licking her dry, cracked lips, JJ whispered, "Is that why you began doing this? You got thrown out of the medical field?" she asked.

Ignoring her questions as he considered his collection of scalpels, he shook his head. "Pity I can't sedate you," he murmured to himself. "I'm not used to my patients being so chatty. But then," he said, choosing a well honed blade with his right hand, "I've never cared whether they experienced the full level of my skill before," he smiled, turning back to her, the metal glinting in his hands.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Hello, Friends. All assignments for the "Masquerade Challenge" have been private messaged to participants. Please let me know if you did not receive yours. Signups for the Criminal Minds Christmas Fic Gift Exchange will go up on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" in the next day or so! Please check it out.**_

_**Second, you all have a little more than two weeks left to nominate stories for the second Annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards. The nomination ballot, rules and category summaries can be found at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. To reach that post please either take a trip to the forum OR links are provided on the profile pages of ilovetvalot, Profiler's Choice CM Awards AND tonnie2001969. Nomination ballots should be PM'd to the Profiler's Choice CM Awards ONLY. That link is also provided on the forum or the profile pages listed above. PLEASE REMEMBER, WITHOUT NOMINATED STORIES, THERE CAN BE NO AWARDS! SO, PLEASE, COME OUT AND SUPPORT YOUR FAVORITE FANFIC AUTHORS AND NOMINATE THOSE STORIES. **_

_**ALSO, we would love for our fellow author's to assist us in advertising these awards! Please feel free to copy and paste anything in this author's note or contact us for a pre-written blurb if you like.**_

_**And, please, everyone, feel free to join us over on Facebook! Simply search for "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" and friend me. We have scores of authors connected together and we'd love to see you there! **_

_**As ever, we appreciate every single one of you that takes the time to read and/or review our stories. Your valuable feedback is deeply appreciated and we love hearing from you!**_

_**And, if we haven't stated it before, we do not own Criminal Minds, but darn, we wish we did!**_


	163. Chapter 162

_**A/N - Hello. LAST CHANCE! We have exactly **__**ONE**__** days left to NOMINATE your favorite authors and stories in the second annual Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards hosted by "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Random drawings for TWO $10.00 Amazon gift cards will be given to two lucky nominators. To be considered eligible, all you have to do is fill out a ballot in ten categories or more. Winners will be announced October 16, 2011! So **__**PLEASE**__**, take a trip to the forum and grab those ballots!**_

_**Also, sign-ups for the Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic exchange are up and running at the forum. Last year was super successful and we hope this year will be equally so. You have until October 31, 2011 to sign up at the forum. Details for both events are located there! Private message us with any questions!**_

_**And don't forget to friend "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" on Facebook. We've got a huge collection of talented authors and readers alike just waiting to chat.**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Two**

His steps measured and sure, David Rossi eased around the edge of the cabin, well aware of the movements all around him. He listened closely, barely able to hear the footsteps behind him, but he had no doubt that Hotch was there, somewhere just beyond Gideon's shoulder. He glanced to the left, his eyes scanning the edge of the tree line. He knew Gibbs was out there, but no obvious signs gave the man away. You can trust Gibbs, he told himself as he tightened his grip on his pistol. God knew, the man's gun had become an extension of his arm over the years. If anyone could make a sniper shot from any distance, it would be Gibbs.

Besides, like him, the man had someone he cared about on the line as well. And one thing he knew about Jethro...the bastard was lethal when you crossed someone he held dear. And all three women inside that ramshackle excuse for a cabin were important to him.

He only hoped and prayed that JJ wasn't caught in the crossfire.

Easing around the corner of the cabin, he nodded once as he inched closer to the uncovered window. Finally they had an opening to the inside.

But what he soon saw caused his stomach to plummet again as bile rose in his throat. Gibbs had told him to expect a large open room in the cabin, and inside that room he got his first glimpse of JJ.

Her prone body rested on a stainless steel table in the center of the room. Narrowing his eyes as he forced himself to view the interior with a clinical eye, he noted the leather restraints encircling her wrists and ankles, effectively rendering her motionless. Searching for another entrance into the cabin, his lips tightened as he recognized that the primary, and thus far, only entrance was the scarred wooden door at the front. Holding his breath as he watched Hastings reach for the rolling tray beside him, Dave watched as the man selected an instrument, the blade glinting in the waning sunlight.

"Fuck," he breathed to himself, his spine stiffening as he watched the evil bastard grin and speak to JJ as he lowered the blade to rest against her pale throat, sliding the tip over her carotid in much the way a man would caress his lover.

The sick bastard was getting off on her terror. He could see it reflected in the prick's eyes.

Hand tightening on his gun, he silently willed JJ to turn her averted face toward him, but if he wasn't mistaken, she was talking. She's trying to engage the suspect, his mind whispered.

Lifting his wrist to his lips, he spoke quietly. "I've got her," he said, keeping his voice low and almost inaudible. "She conscious. Gibbs, do you have a shot?"

"Negative," Gibbs clipped voice replied in his ear piece. "Moving to higher ground."

"Hurry," Rossi ordered harshly as he watched Hastings wave the blade in front of JJ's lips, obviously enjoying the power he held over the secured woman. "He's escalating," Rossi growled, his hand tightening on his gun as he felt Gideon edging closer behind him.

"Steady, Dave," Hotch's stern voice ordered through the ear wig. "If you breach, you'll spook him."

Exhaling a thin stream of air through his nose as Aaron spoke, Dave heard the unsaid part of that order clearly. "...and you could kill her."

"Can you get a shot through the window?" Gibbs rough voice asked in his ear.

"Negative," Dave said with a jerky shake of his head, his eyes glued to the woman he loved as the cold monster trailed the steel blade down her chest, a thin trail of ruby red blood appearing in its wake. "Not without risking JJ."

Watching events unfold over Dave's shoulder, Gideon's jaw flexed. "Aaron," he whispered, pressing his own wrist to his lips, "we're going to have to move. Soon," he whispered violently, grimacing as he watched JJ's body jerk involuntarily on the table.

"God damn it, Aaron," Dave hissed. "He just cut her!"

"Steady!" Hotch barked back to both men. "Backup is three minutes out."

"Gibbs?" Gideon growled low in his throat.

"I don't have a shot. If the little prick would move two feet to the left, I could manage it," Jethro bit out, his finger tightening around the trigger as he tried to narrow his site for an impossible shot. Shifting on the hard ground as he squinted, he shook his head as something caught his eye through the scope. "Rossi, northeastern corner!" Gibbs growled.

Reluctantly shifting his gaze in the direction Jethro indicated, Rossi's jaw dropped as he watched the floorboard lift two inches, a dark set of familiar eyes appearing to gaze directly at him."Is that..." Gibbs bit out.

"It's David," Dave confirmed, purposefully keeping his voice low as he kept his gaze trained on her, her hand motions signaling them. "Hotch," he whispered, "we can breach from the back. There's a way into where she's at!"Taking one last look at Jennifer, her small body trembling on the table as Hastings continued taunting her with the scalpel, Dave swallowed hard. His eyes glued to man that was intent on taking her life, he sent a prayer heavenward that he could stop him from accomplishing his mission.

Waving his free hand, the pre-planned signal to anyone watching that they planned to reevaluate their position, he eased his body backward around the cabin.

Meeting Hotch on the windowless side of the cabin, Dave asked, keeping his voice down, "We need to go in, Aaron."

Kneeling on the ground, Hotch nodded to the small window of the cellar. "There's an entrance," he said deeply, struggling to see through the foggy glass to the other side."

"Can you see anything?" Gideon growled, falling to his knees beside the other man as Hotch quickly used the tip of his knife to remove the screws from the window.

"Not yet," Hotch muttered, willing his fingers to move more quickly."Hurry up!" Dave hissed under his breath.

"Who's going in?" Gideon asked.

Glancing up as he threw the last screw on the ground beside him and soundlessly eased the pane of dirty glass away from the window, he met Dave's eyes. "Can you negotiate?"

"The only negotiation I plan on doing is clearing the way for Gibbs so he can put a bullet in that bastard's head," Dave bit out, already bending to the ground and scooting toward the small hole into the structure. "But one way or another, I'm bringing JJ the hell out of there!"

"Copy that," Leroy Jethro Gibbs bit out as he tensed on the ground, his gun cocked and ready. "Do you have a visual on Ziva? She's not in my sights anymore."

"Agent Hotchner, yes?" Ziva David whispered, her face suddenly appearing in the window.

"Ziva, where's Anne?" Gideon asked almost instantly as the woman's dirty face appeared.

"She is here. Injured, but here," Ziva whispered, glancing over her shoulder as she took the gun Hotch had pulled from his ankle strap. "We've both been drugged and she's required medical attention. What is the plan? Where is Gibbs?"

"On the rise overlooking the cabin waiting to get a clear shot," Hotch replied, nodding to Dave. "Agent Rossi is going to breach from inside the cabin and try to maneuver Hastings into a position where Agent Gibbs has a tactical advantage."

Nodding, Ziva stepped aside as the older man squeezed through the small hole, her face filling the space again a second later as Rossi's feet touched the dirt floor. "We need to get Deputy Fortner out of here," she insisted, looking over her shoulder at the still body. "She had lost consciousness again."

"I'm going in, too," Gideon bit out, shoving Hotch out of the way.

"Jason!" Hotch hissed, trying to grab the older man's arm.

Shrugging him off, Gideon shook his head. "We're wasting time, Aaron, and I'm not losing anybody else," he bit out before he, too, disappeared into the cabin.


	164. Chapter 163

_**Author's Note: BIG ANNOUNCEMENT - THE FINAL VOTING BALLOT IS AVAILABLE FOR THE SECOND ANNUAL PROFILER'S CHOICE CM AWARDS on "CHIT CHAT ON AUTHOR'S CORNER" FORUM. Please take this opportunity to recognize some wonderful author's and their stunning pieces of fic. Voting ends 11/30/2011. Two Amazon gift cards will be given to two RANDOM voters that take the time to vote in ten or more categories. Congratulations to all of this year's nominees. Now, let's all read some CM fic!**_

_**And don't forget that we've got quite the collection of fellow authors and readers interfacing over at Facebook. Simply friend "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" and/or "Tonnie Fanfiction" to join in the fun. Periodic announcements regarding our awards and ongoing work are announced there.**_

_**Thanks to everyone that continues to read, review, favorite and alert our work! You guys are incredible and we love hearing from each one of you!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Three**

Wincing as he slid his body down into the tight crawl space, Gideon closed his fingers around the flashlight Hotch pressed into his raised palm. Quickly sliding the lever into the on position, he shined it around the cellar, quickly spotting Ann's still body, her arm resting limply at her side.

"Jesus," he hissed, scrambling across the dirt floor as he heard the muffled sound of Dave sliding down behind him. "Ann?" he whispered, reaching her side. Shining the flashlight quickly down her body, Gideon grimaced as he found the long closed incision on her side. "Christ," he hissed, his hand touched her head.

"Gid?" Dave said, his voice low. "How bad?"

"It looks like he probably took her kidney," Gideon whispered, his eyes raking her for further injury. "We need to get her out of here," he whispered anxiously as her eyelids fluttered. "Now."

Nodding tersely as he saw Ann's condition over Gideon's shoulder, Dave crawled around to the other side, grimacing as he took in the pale woman's body. "Christ," he hissed. "We need to move fast," he ordered, wedging his hands underneath Ann's body as the young woman groaned.

"Careful!" Gideon bit out, grinding his teeth together as they shifted the woman across the floor toward the narrow window.

"J-jason?" Ann breathed faintly as her eyes opened. Struggling to focus on his shadowed face, she tried to decipher if this was real or imaginary. The pain radiating throughout her body, however, assured her mind that this was all too real.

"Hey, sweetheart," Jason smiled as they reached the window, each man pausing to catch his breath. "You just hang in there. We're gonna get you out of here," he promised, bending to press a kiss to her sweaty temple.

"JJ," Anne managed to force out, her tongue thick in her mouth as the sedative Nick had given her lingered.

"I'll get her, Anne," Dave assured JJ's friend softly, determined to fulfill that promise within the next few minutes.

"We're going to have to lift you up, Sweetheart," Gideon warned when Ann's face contorted in pain again. "It's going to hurt, but I need you to stay quiet. You understand?" he asked gently, sliding his fingers through her dirty hair and smoothing it back from her face.

"Just leave me here," Ann panted, trying to shake her head. "Help get JJ out."

"We can do both, Anne," Gideon calmed her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Just take a couple of deep breaths before we do this," he ordered against her skin.

"You two need to move your ass," Gibbs ordered harshly through the ear piece. "It looks like this guy is becoming erratic," he said, watching Hastings wave his scalpel around JJ's face through the scope.

"Ziva, can you help?" Dave asked quickly, glancing over his shoulder at the raven haired agent.

"Yes," she answered crisply.

"Get her feet," Dave said, nodding toward Anne's ankles. "Gid, you handle her head and I'll take the middle. Hotch, you ready up there?" he asked.

"Let's move," Aaron nodded, extending his arms.

"Hold your breath, Anne," Gideon directed quickly, feeling her small body stiffen as the three of them lifted her toward the window.

Releasing his own breath as Hotch dragged the injured woman free of the cabin, Rossi met Jason's eyes. "Go," he ordered.

"But..."

"Jason, go. She need you now," Dave replied, seeing the indecision flashing in his old friend's eyes. He knew how the other man felt. If it had been JJ lying there, he would want to be with her. "I'll be okay."

"I have his back," Ziva assured the wild eyed older man.

Pressing his lips together, Gideon nodded once before hoisting himself out of the cabin. Staying low, he jogged toward where Hotch knelt by the tree line. He'd dragged Anne as far as he'd dared and now he stared worriedly down at her.

"Jason?" Hotch frowned as the elder man reached them, his eyes darting between the fallen deputy and his former agent. "Where's Dave?" Hotch whispered, careful to keep his voice low.

"Still inside," Gideon bit out, his jaw tensing as he got his first good look at the woman that had changed his life. "You need to get in there. I'm not sure how much help Ziva can be in her altered condition."

Nodding once, Hotch hurried back toward the window. Following his progression until the younger man, too, disappeared into the cabin, Jason turned his gaze back to Anne. "How you doin', Red?" he asked gently, watching as she struggled to focus her eyes, still dilated with the effects of whatever that sadistic freak had pumped into her.

"Hurts," Anne gasped, her voice raw from disuse.

"I know," Gideon soothed, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Help is coming. I just need you to hang on a little while longer," he begged. It was a miracle that she'd made it this long. And now, here he was asking her to be patient, he thought ironically.

"You found me," she said faintly, her dulled gaze meeting his. "I didn't think..."

"Hey, you made it, sweetheart. You're going to keep making it," Gideon assured her forcefully when her eyes lost focus again. "Ann," his deep voice commanded. "You've got to try, babe. Concentrate on me...my voice."

"I am," she whispered, the pain spreading as she tried to shift on the hard ground. "I'm so tired..."

"You've got to stay conscious, Anne," Gideon demanded insistently. "I understand how hard it is, and I swear you can kick my ass later, but for now, you've got to trust me."

"I trust you," Anne slurred, waving lines appearing in front of her eyes as shapes distorted. Licking her dry lips, she swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Jason laughed hoarsely. "You're sorry? I'm the one that's given you a hard time, Red."

"You're not s' bad," Anne mumbled, turning her cheek against his warm hand.

"I'm gonna remind you that you said that later," Gideon smiled, praying they'd have a 'later'. Dammit, they deserved a later and he was bound and determined that they get one.

"He took my kidney," Anne managed to say as the sky above her seemed to dim. "He...he laughed..."

Sweet God, Gideon thought wildly. She'd been conscious for that? The rational part of his mind knew she had been...of course, she had been. That was how unsubs like this got off. They thrived on watching their victims' terror...their pain. Looking down at the unmarred skin of her right side, he smoothed his hand over her cool cheek again. "People survive with one kidney all the time, Sweetheart. We'll get you to the hospital and everything will be fine," he said as soothingly as he could, lifting his eyes to quickly scan the trees as he heard the crackle of brush.

Lifting his gun as he spotted movement on the perimeter, he released the breath he'd been holding as he spotted Gibbs' father and Dr. Beaumont's familiar face coming toward them. Lowering the gun, he waited until they were closer to gesture for silence, pressing a hand to his lips as he watched the doctor's eyes narrow on Anne's prone body.

Jogging the last of the distance as Jackson Gibbs hobbled behind him as quickly as he could, shotgun held tightly against him, Dr. Beaumont hurriedly knelt on Anne's other side, reaching out to press two fingers to her neck.

"How did you two get here?" Jason asked softly as he watched the doctor unzip his backpack and pull out a bag of IV fluids.

"Jackson heard it on the scanner and called me. He figured since I was in the service, I wouldn't mind a trek through the wilderness," Beaumont muttered, efficiently sliding a catheter into Anne's arm, his lips pressing together when the woman barely made a sound.

"Where's Jethro?" Jackson asked when he finally reached the group, staring down at Anne's body with horror. "My God! Did he..."

"Jethro is trying to get a sniper shot," Gideon answered, cutting the older man off before he could scare Anne worse than she already was. Looking at the doctor, Gideon said, "Thanks for coming. It was stupid, but..."

"...considering everything, entirely necessary," Beaumont retorted, frowning as he moved his stethoscope from Anne's chest to her exposed belly. "How long until we have medical assistance in here?" he asked, his voice low and tense.

"Should be anytime. They're coming in with lights off."

Meeting Jason's eyes, Dr. Beaumont murmured, "You need to make it sooner rather than later."


	165. Chapter 164

**Author's Note: Hi guys! The FINAL voting process is well underway for the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds Awards hosted by Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Links can be found on our profiler pages. Please come on over and take a look at this year's incredibly talented nominees and their stories. Two random voters (that vote in ten categories or more) will be selected to receive gift cards from Amazon. com at the completion of this year's awards. So, take a moment and join the fun. Please PM us with any questions.**

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* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Four**

Exchanging a knowing look with Aaron in the shadowy darkness, Dave murmured, "I'll take lead." Pressing the earwig into his ear, he breathed, "Gibbs? I'm going up."

"Get him to move three inches to the left, Dave and I'll have a shot," Jethro informed the other man crisply, tightening his fingers around the gun as he kept his eye trained through the sight.

"Copy that," Dave returned tersely, his voice low. Soundlessly moving to the trap door, Dave opened it a scant inch. His eyes narrowed as he watched as Hastings bent over JJ, laughing maniacally against her ear.

"Don't do this, Nick," he heard JJ gasp as the maniacal man teased the scalpel against her bare flesh. "At least don't do this until you tell me why?"

Moving quickly as he forced himself to breathe evenly, Dave hefted himself out of the cellar, leveling his gun on the man standing over JJ's body.

"I've lost the visual," Gibbs growled into his mike, tensing as Hastings stepped out of ranged.

Lips tightening as he watched Nick's wild eyes lift, his mouth twisting into a sneer, Dave tried to ignore the way the blade pressed against JJ's jugular.

"You!" Hastings spat acidly as he saw the interloper in his space. "Don't you ever get tired of playing hero, Agent Rossi?"

"Not when psychos like you keep on hunting innocent women," Dave replied evenly, pressing his lips together as crimson blood began to drip down JJ's neck. "You're in the wrong area, Nick," Dave remarked casually, his gut clenching as he watched a tear roll down JJ's cheek. "It's her heart you want, remember?" Dave taunted, aware that if the bastard would just take the one step toward the end of JJ's body, Gibbs would have his shot.

"I haven't forgotten anything," Hastings snarled, his eyes growing even colder, as if that was possible. Glancing down at the woman he had waited to capture for the years, he added, almost happily, "This little treasure and I were barely getting started before you rudely interrupted."

"Step away from her, Hastings, and you've got a chance of walking out of here alive. It's a slim one, but it's a chance," Dave offered darkly, training his own gun on Nick's chest.

"If I go, I take her with me," Nick declared as he laughed, the steal glinting as he twisted the blade. "I'll make sure of that. She's going with me either way. I let her slip away once," he said with an almost loving look down at a now quiet JJ. "I won't allow it to happen again."

"Who are you?" JJ asked hoarsely, mindful of the sharp scalpel piercing her throat with every move she made. "At least tell me that much?"

"Why, I'm a doctor, of course." Nick blinked, lowering her gaze to JJ as he tilted his head in confusion. "Isn't that obvious?"

"Doctors heal, Hastings," Dave growled. "Not kill."

"Sacrifices are made every day in the interest of science." Nick frowned, lifting his eyes back to Rossi. "My methods might have seemed extreme to you, but they were necessary. It's not easy to craft the perfect human being. At first, I was only trying to hone my craft," he said conversationally. "Then, when I'd finally achieved a level of excellency to satisfy me, I began looking for the perfect victims. That's why I saved you for last, Jennifer," he crooned, sliding the edge of the scalpel against her perfect white skin.

"You're mad," JJ whispered, shaking her head against the metal table. Swallowing hard as the maniacal glint in her torturer's eyes intensified, she prayed harder than she had ever done. Take the shot, Dave. Just take the shot.

"Isn't every great mind just a little bit mad?" Hastings laughed, the sound tapering off into a shrill hiss. "It's the contribution that I'll be remembered for..."

"You'll be remembered as that asshole that murdered over forty innocent people by my last count," Dave retorted, angling his body closer to the table.

"Forty?" Nick chuckled, his fingers clenching tighter at the weapon in his hand. "Did you hear that, Jennifer? Forty! Believe me, lovely, that number is paltry next to the one I'm really responsible for, but it was all to get ready for you," he said softly, trailing the scalpel's tip down her bared chest, retracing the scar he'd left her with all those many years ago.

"See," Nick whispered as he smiled, "I even drew myself a map for this moment," he sighed, leaving a scarlet blood trail in his wake.

"One more inch, Rossi," Gibbs growled into his mike, beads of sweat forming against his forehead.

"It's almost poetic that you're here to watch this, Rossi," Nick added, his teeth gleaming. "Especially since, if not for you, my work would have been completed long ago. Think of the countless lives you could have saved just by giving me this one," Hastings barked, his face suddenly contorting with rage.

"I didn't let you have her then, and I'm not gonna give her to you now," Rossi bit out, readjusting his aim for a head shot. If Gibbs couldn't find the target, he would.

"Got him," Gibbs' emotionless voice related a split second before his finger contracted around the trigger.

Holding his breath as the sound of breaking glass filled the air, Dave lunged toward JJ just as Hastings hand fell forward and his body slumped over the woman he loved.

JJ's scream pierced the fog surrounding his mind as he shoved Hasting's lifeless body off her. "Damn it," Dave growled as he saw the scalpel buried in her flesh. "We need a medic!" he barked, his hands already clawing at the restraints binding JJ to the table.

"Dave," JJ gasped as white hot pain radiated down her side. "Dave!"

"Shhh, I'm here, Sweetheart," Dave said as calmly as he could with blood pulsing out of her body around the blade. "Just stay with me."

Beginning to tremble in reaction, she grimaced as she realized exactly what had happened. "H-how bad?" she asked hoarsely. Turning her head at the body slumped on the floor, she bit out, "Is he dead?"

"He's gone, Babe," Dave said hoarsely, finally releasing both her hands and quickly shrugging off his jacket to drape over her.

"Dave!" Hotch yelled, hoisting himself out of the hole in the floor, his eyes taking in the entire scene in a glance. "How is-"

Turning to look over his shoulder, Dave growled, "Get the fucking medics in here NOW. He stabbed her when he went down!"

"The fucking medic is already here," Dr. Beaumont's surly voice informed Dave as he burst through the door to the cabin. "Move!" he ordered Rossi tersely as he reached JJ's side.


	166. Chapter 165

**Author's Note - OKAY, MY FRIENDS, WE HAVE LESS THAN ****FORTY-EIGHT HOURS**** LEFT TO VOTE FOR OUR FAVES IN THE Profiler's Choice CM Awards. ALL the details can be found on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Links are in my profile page. If you've got ANY questions, PLEASE PM me. Also, for every person that votes in at least TEN categories, you are automatically registered to win one of two Amazon. com gift cards. So, please, put on those reading hats, grab a cup of coffee and check out the ballot. We have some great stories and fabulous authors up for consideration.**

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* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Five**

Her world seemed to explode then, the noises growing louder around her as she tried to hold onto something…anything solid. She could hear other voices swirling around, almost certain that Hotch was barking orders somewhere and Emily was answering, those sounds deep in well of darkness. But she needed Dave, and yet she felt his hand slip out of hers, her panic rising with each passing second.

"Dave!" she tried to yell, but the effort sent sharp pains through her chest. Her words came out as a hoarse whisper, and she tried to force herself to keep her eyes open even as another wave of pain mixed with pain rolled through her.

"I'm right here, babe," Dave answered immediately, moving quickly to cup her cheek as the doctor pressed bandages against JJ's bleeding chest. "Don't talk right now. Just try to breathe, honey."

Dr. Beaumont let loose a muffled curse then, and Dave forced himself to keep his eyes on JJ's entirely too pale face as he ordered over his shoulder, "Update, doc. What the hell's going on?"

"Gonna leave the scalpel in place. If I pull it out, she's going to bleed out before we can get her to an OR," Beaumont replied sharply as he packed bandages quickly in place.

Emily called out just then, "The medivac chopper is landing. We need to get this door off the hinge to get her out."

"Move," a gruff voice ordered from behind Prentiss.

Glancing over her shoulder at Jethro Gibbs' set face, Prentiss raised an eyebrow as she watched the tall man furiously kick the rusted hinges, knocking the lower to the door with one well aimed foot. "That's a method," she murmured as he forced the last stubborn hinge out with his fist.

"The Deputy outside needs to go on the first chopper," Beaumont said briskly, never taking his eyes off JJ's wound as he packed it.

"What?" Dave snapped, his eyes flashing up to glare at the grim faced physician.

"Deputy Fortner has basically been disemboweled, Rossi," Beaumont explained harshly, his hands never wavering. "Her condition is more critical than Agent Jareau's is at the moment."

"Looks pretty damned bad to me," Dave retorted angrily, his hand contracting protectively around JJ's.

"Anne is alive?" JJ asked faintly, her vision blurring as she tried to focus on the voices above her. "She's okay?"

"You've both been injured." Dr. Beaumont nodded as he met his patient's dilated eyes. "But, yes, she's alive," he said with a look at Dave. The "for now" went unspoken, but the meaning wasn't lost on anyone in the room.

"Dave, the second chopper is hovering above," Hotch added quickly, pressing a hand to his earwig. "As soon as the first clears, the second will land for JJ. Dr. Mallard will escort Anne and Dr. Beaumont will be with JJ."

Nodding once, Dave swallowed hard, meeting JJ's glazed gaze. "Just hang on for me, Bella," he begged hoarsely as her eyelids fluttered. "This is almost over. We'll get you to the hospital and all fixed up, and we can go home."

Nodding in spite of the pain, JJ made her fingers work enough to squeeze his fingers. "You came for me," she whispered, blinking rapidly. "Just like before."

"I'm always going to come for you," Dave returned shakily, bending to press a kiss to her forehead as two EMTs slid through the door with a gurney. "You aren't gonna get away from me that easy. Just hang on for me."

"We need to get her on the board," Dr. Beaumont said, his voice oddly husky as he pressed his lips together. "There's only gonna be room for one more. I'm assuming that's gonna be you, Rossi?" he asked, nodding to the two medics as they took positions around JJ's body.

"You assumed right," Dave replied bluntly.

Nodding once, Beaumont ordered the men, "Smooth and easy boys. On my count. Three. Two. Lift," he coached as they transferred and secured JJ to the gurney.

Moaning as she felt her body lifted, JJ struggled to remain conscious. "Dave?" she gasped.

"I'm here," she heard his deep voice reassure her. But the lights were already dimming...the noises becoming more and more distant. And soon, there was no pain at all, only blessed darkness.

"JJ? JJ!" Dave barked as her face went slack.

"It's okay," Dr. Beaumont said sharply above Dave's panicked voice. "I sedated her. It'll make her transport easier on her body. Let's move," he ordered the two men at either end of JJ's body.

Running behind the gurney as they raced toward the helicopter slowly landing in the grassy field, Dave lifted his eyes toward the sky, the first medivac already climbing into the sky. "Anne?" he yelled to Hotch above the roar of the motor.

"Yeah," Hotch shouted back, pointing toward the sky. "Jason's with her! JJ's dad, Abby and Garcia are already at the hospital. We'll be there as soon as we can!" the Unit Chief yelled above the helicopter's whir.

Nodding, Dave followed Beaumont into the small helicopter, reaching for his seatbelt as he sat on the small bench beside JJ's gurney. She was pale and still as blood still oozed from the packing around the scalpel. "You can fix her, right?" Dave asked the doctor beside him urgently.

"I'll do everything I can," Beaumont returned, long ago finding the danger in making promises that he was uncertain if he could keep. "She's young and strong. She has a lot going for her."

"That wasn't an answer, Doc," Dave replied unevenly, reaching for JJ's hand, needing to feel her skin against his.

"It's the best I can give you right now. Once I get in there, I'll know how bad the damage is. Until then, I'd just be guessing, Agent Rossi, but I think you're a smart enough man to realize that."

"Listen, Doc, I know we had our problems at the beginning of this case..."

Shaking his head, Dr. Beaumont sighed. "You were following a lead. I was a good one. But I don't hold any grudges. I'll do everything I can to help Agent Jareau."

"Thank you," Dave responded huskily, his eyes glued to JJ's face. And as he sat there during the short, tense flight, he prayed harder than he ever had in his life.

* * *

_**A/N 2 - So, are you guys still enjoying this wild ride? Drop a line and let us know!**_


	167. Chapter 166

**_Author's Note: Hello! Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum have signups in session through December 31 for our "Resolutions Challenge" for January. Rules and details are also at the forum! Please join us for the challenge that will kickoff the New Year._**

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**_A special note to my readers...as Christmas draws nearer, so does my husband's return from the war zone in Afghanistan. This said, posts will be slowing DRAMATICALLY after the holiday. Bear with me. Slower updates are expected to last approximately a month. But, real life and a family reconnection will take precedence. I'm sure you all understand. But, take heart, a happy hubby makes an energetic writer._**

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* * *

_**Because I don't say it often enough, nothing would happen in these stories without my wonderful co-author and friend, tonnie2001969. Too often, the author name ilovetvalot is mistaken for just one person. There are two of us. Tonnie2001969 collaborates on every single one of these stories and I can't say ENOUGH wonderful things about this woman!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Six**

Bending over to rest his head in his hands, Dave closed his eyes. For the last half-hour, ever since they'd arrived at the small hospital and JJ had been rushed into surgery, he'd barely held onto what was left of his sanity. Pull it together, Rossi, he ordered himself sharply as he felt another wave of despair roll through him. She's alive. The doctors will stop the bleeding and the wounds will heal. You're not going to lose her.

He couldn't lose her. Not this time. Not after he'd found her again.

Footsteps sounded heavily against the linoleum, and Dave could tell that someone was standing next to him. Pulling his head up, he found himself staring into the eyes of Locke Jareau. Memories of another time when he'd faced this man flew through his mind, and the same feelings of loss and dread came tumbling back to the surface.

"Where is she?" Locke demanded, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Surgery," Dave replied, his voice hoarse, as he stood up, gazing at JJ's father. The older man appeared frailer today, the knowledge of his daughter's second near miss in a lifetime adding a bone deep weariness to his movements. "She was bleeding pretty badly, but the doctor's certain he can stop it once they get the knife out and find out how much damage was done."

"She talking?" Locke asked as he turned toward a nearby chair, easing down, his knees popping in protest.

Rossi grinned wryly at that question, in spite of his fears. "Up to the moment they rolled her away from me."

"As long as my Sprite's yapping, things ain't as bad as they could be," Locke said with a knowing tone, his gut loosening slightly as he heard that his daughter hadn't retreated behind a wall of silence in spite of reliving the worst tragedy in her life. Glancing at the worried man beside him, he knew the gruff profiler had a lot to do with it. His vow to keep his daughter safe had been as much to himself as it had been to him. "You got her out, Rossi," he reminded the man softly.

"Not soon enough," Dave said faintly, gazing at the double wood doors barring him from the surgery suite. "He still hurt her."

"Yeah." Locke nodded solemnly. "And if the bastard wasn't dead, I'd rip him apart myself for what he done, but she's alive. Because you went in and got 'er out. I owe you for that."

"You don't owe me anything, Locke. If we'd done the job right the first time around, she wouldn't be in there," he muttered, nodding toward the doors as remorse ate away at him for his role in the case all those years ago.

"And you might not have her now," Locke offered honestly. "I know you're in love with my girl, son. I might not have been too keen on the idea at first, but I'm comin' around."

"I do," Dave whispered, nodding slowly before turning to look at JJ's father. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, Locke. You have to know that."

"I think you made that pretty clear," Locke agreed, his fingers tightening around his cane as he sighed. "But you hurt her and I'll make you the sorriest son of a bitch on earth," he warned grimly. "She's known enough pain to last ten lifetimes."

"I know that."

"But, when she looks at you...all that pain melts away," Locke acknowledged. "That makes puttin' up with you worth it, I guess."

"Thanks," Dave returned with a weak smile. "Does it help you to know that I'm seeing colors again for the first time in about a decade, Locke? She lights up my world. I'm not sure I could live without her now."

"Wrapped herself around your heart, has she?"

"In a way I never imagined possible," Dave conceded quietly, clasping his hands together as he stared down at his watch.

Gaze lingering on the man sitting alone in the far corner of the room, Locke nodded toward Jason Gideon. "Seems like you ain't the only soul that got singed by the fires of love. That poor bastard looks more shell shocked than you."

"I think Gid's feelings took him by surprise," Dave replied quietly, looking at the haggard man hunched in the corner. "Anne blindsided him."

"Love can do that." Locke nodded, remembering for a moment his own love for JJ's mother. "How bad is it for her?" he questioned huskily.

Sighing heavily, Dave shook his head. "It's touch and go. She coded once during the flight in here. They got her back, but if she makes it, she'll have a hell of a road ahead of her."

"He butchered her, didn't he?" Locke asked stiffly, his nails digging into the cane as old anger resurfaced.

"Took her kidney," Dave answered with a slight nod. "She can live with one, but between the infection and the blood loss...we just have to wait and see. Garcia was able to contact the top nephrologists in the state. He's on his way in now. Last I heard, they were trying to stabilize her vitals."

"And the other one...Ziva?" Locke continued, pressing his lips together.

Looking around the room, Dave shook his head. "Gibbs is checking on her, but other than being drugged, she didn't appear any the worse for wear. She was collateral damage for Hastings. An incidental addition to that twisted fuck's plan."

"Do we know anything yet about any of the ladies?" a cultured British voice asked from the doorway.

"Dr. Mallard," Rossi greeted the medical examiner as he rose. "Gibbs has gone to check on Ziva. Anne and JJ are both in surgery. Where've you been?"

"Preliminary autopsy on your killer," Ducky replied, stuffing his hand into the pocket of his borrowed green scrubs. "Dr. Beaumont asked if I'd do it. He said this was one examination he couldn't stomach. Given he's done so much for our investigation, I thought it was the least I could do to help."

Nodding, Dave glanced at Locke's tightened face.

"That butcher is here? In this hospital?" Locke bit out.

"He can't hurt anyone anymore, Mr. Jareau," Ducky consoled the elderly man.

"I wanna see him," Locke demanded as Gibbs and his father Jackson walked into the room, joining the group.

"See who?" Jackson asked with a hard look at his best friend.

"I wanna see the bastard with my own two eyes," Locke continued to insist.

"Locke, I'm not sure..." Gibbs began to shake his silver head.

"When Shannon died, you needed to see that bastard well and truly dead," Locke replied bluntly. "You had to know he couldn't hurt anybody else. Don't stand there and expect less from me, Boy," the older man retorted, turning to face Dave. "I wanna see that son of a bitch cold as death on a slab, Rossi. Make it happen."

Nodding tersely at Ducky, Dave looked over his shoulder at Jason. "You coming?" he asked his friend.

Slowly looking up at Dave, Jason nodded slowly. "Let's go."


	168. Chapter 167

**Author's Note: Don't forget to sign up for the 2012 Valentine's Challenge at Chit Chat on Author's Corner if you are interested.**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Seven**

Drawing in a deep breath as he stared down at the dead body of the man that had terrorized the woman he loved for decades, David Rossi shoved his fist in the pocket of his jeans. For years, he had thought that they had captured and killed the man that had hurt her all those years ago. And yet, an innocent man had been caught in the crossfire then, set up to take the fall for this man he was now looking at….this monster.

He had known that evil existed. He was raised on heaven and hell, right and wrong, angels and demons with all of the attending dogma and doctrine that entailed. His life's work had been centered around chasing and annihilating the horrors that invaded the world around them, saving fellow mankind from advanced suffering.

But this man…this fiend had transcended all others. This monster had left his indelible mark, and Rossi wasn't just thinking about the tattoo that had marred Jennifer's perfect body.

And now, in some form of karmic retribution, the monster's body was tarnished by the single bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

Death was entirely too easy a solution, Dave thought darkly. If ever there was time that he wanted an unsub to suffer, this was it. He had wanted this man to pay heavily, long and painfully, for the sins he had committed.

And he had wanted to be the one administering the punishment.

"I know what you're thinking, son," Locke Jareau said from beside Dave, leaning heavily against his cane as he stared down at the man that had killed one of his daughters and attempted to take the other. "I wanted to kill him myself for what he did to Lacy and Jenny. Spent years thinkin' I had."

"He got off too easy," Dave growled, glaring at the corpse.

"He's dead. Really dead, this time. Don't know if we should be askin' the Lord for more'n that," Locke replied softly, his own eyes unwavering as they stared at the body.

His whole body stiff with a rage he could barely contain, Dave muttered, "He didn't suffer. If there was any justice, we should have inflicted the hell he brought to each one of his victims."

"He's burning in hell," Locke returned evenly. "Trust me, boy, he's suffering now," he said with a cold smile. "And my Jenny can have the peace she deserves," he pointed out. "She's safe now from this evil," he said with a grim nod at the body.

Glancing across the room at Hotch, Dave growled, "Do we even know who this bastard really was yet?"

"Not yet. We're running DNA samples through every database Garcia and Ms. Scuito can think of. They'll let one of us know when they get a hit," Hotch replied softly. "Forensics is going over his home and the stables with a fine tooth comb. Emily is there supervising. Hopefully, we'll find something that will fill in the missing blanks soon."

"Tell them to look for the obvious," Gideon said gruffly from the corner. "This unsub was proud of what he'd done. There will be records. Possibly even names and locations of his victims. He'd want to leave a testament behind. And something will tie him to Kentucky all those years ago."

"Not that I really give a shit, Duck," Dave sighed, "but, did you get anything other than Gibbs' bullet off the body?" he asked, nodding toward the lifeless carcass in front of him.

"Actually," Duck replied slowly, "Yes." He nodded. "And it might explain your unsub's spiral. I found a sizeable malignant tumor in his brain. It had probably been growing over the past several years. It definitely would have altered his perception of reality. It's possible he truly believed he was doing the world a service with his so-called research."

"Brain cancer?" Rossi spat, barely able to contain the bile that threatened to spew from his very soul. "That's his excuse for slaughtering..." Feeling Locke stiffen beside him, Rossi swallowed suddenly, halting his words.

"You asked, Dave," Gideon reminded him from the corner.

"His illness excuses nothing," Ducky replied softly, staring across the table at Rossi and Locke. "It merely explains his delusions. He wouldn't have lived much longer."

"Cry me a river," Locke muttered under his breath, taking one last look at the man that had robbed him of one daughter and very nearly taken his second with him on his journey back to hell. Shaking his head, he stiffened his shoulders. "I'm done here," he said, leaning heavily on his cane as he turned away.

"Me, too," Dave said softly, following the elder man out of the morgue.

Pausing in the hallway as he leaned tiredly against the wall, Locke met Rossi's eyes. "You're right. It didn't help," he acknowledged wearily. "Nothing helps."

"I know, Locke," Dave replied quietly.

"I might know something that will," a voice said from behind them.

Turning, both men faced Jethro Gibbs. "What?" Rossi asked gruffly.

"Jenny's out of surgery," Gibbs informed them both calmly, gripping a cup of coffee in his hand. "Doc is waiting to talk to you both."

Barely breathing, Rossi tried to read Jethro's implacable face. "Is she...," Dave began, his voice tight. His lack of control must have shown, because Gibbs' lips tilted upward just slightly, his eyes warming.

"Doc told me she made it through the surgery with few problems, man," Gibbs replied softly. "She's in recovery now and it'll be an hour or so before they allow either of you back there," he said looking between JJ's father and her lover. "But she made it."

"Oh, thank God," Locke breathed, sagging against the wall as both Dave and Gibbs caught an arm.

"Don't you dare have another heart attack," Dave threatened. "I refuse to explain THAT to your daughter. No matter if she did just have surgery, she'd find a way to kill me."

"I'm fine," Locke blustered, trying to shrug off their hands. "I just got the wind knocked out of me for a minute," he said grumpily, rubbing his hand over his face. "You sure she's okay, Jethro?" he asked worriedly, looking at his best friend's son.

"Doc is waiting to talk to you both," Gibbs said evenly as he nodded. "But he told me, it went well. He's waiting for both of you."

Leaning on his cane, he quit fighting Rossi's grip on his elbow as he moved toward the elevator. "Well, " he said with a look toward a relieved Dave, "let's go see how our girl is faring."

And with a single nod, Dave followed JJ's father into the elevator, never so ready for anything in his life.


	169. Chapter 168

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Eight**

Penelope Garcia's fingers flew across her keyboard as she glared at the screen in front of her. Shaking her head as she mumbled to herself, she shifted against the uncomfortable metal stool that had been her resting place for the last three hours.

"Any luck yet, Penny?" Abby Sciuto asked, her shoulders bent over her own keyboard just a few feet away, her hunched pose almost an exact copy of Garcia's.

Wrinkling her nose as she reached for her favorite fluffy pencil, Penelope sighed. "Needle in the proverbial haystack, sister. Surely the deities will shine upon us soon and we will find whatever obscure DNA database out there that will tell us who that bastard was that almost killed our friends."

The whooshing sound of an opening door interrupted their work just then, and Penelope turned expectantly to see who had invaded their borrowed space in the corner of the hospital waiting room. Her eyes widened almost comically and she bounded off her stool in less than a second as she screeched, "Oh, my baby! What are you doing out of bed? March yourself right back to that Emergency Room and STAY there until the doctor says you can be released!"

Derek Morgan held up one hand to stall her tirade, slipping his other arm around her shoulders as she came closer. "Sweet Thing, the doctor did release me. And the first person I wanted to see was you." Grinning down at her surprised eyes, he tapped her pert nose as he asked, "And I have it on good authority that the doctor would be most appreciative if you would please keep your nosy little hands off of his credit rating. He's trying to buy a house, doll face, after all."

"Then he should've moved quicker when you got to his ER," Garcia snorted as she cupped his jaw, glaring into his eyes as she tried to determine his physical health for herself. "You sure you are okay, Derek?"

"I'm gonna be fine, Sweetness." He nodded, easing his still weary body down into one of the vinyl waiting room chairs. "And for the record," he said with a grin toward Abby, "so will Dinozzo."

"You've seen Tony?" Abby asked eagerly, turning quickly, her ponytail bouncing wildly against her shoulders. "How is he? Does he look okay? Has the doctor said anything else about him?" she asked, setting her laptop aside and lunging toward him.

"Whoa, there, Pretty Girl," Derek replied slowly, holding up a hand when she would have popped off another question cum demand for information. "You sure you two aren't long lost siblings?" he asked, carefully turning his head from side to side to look at the two women he was wedged between. "Cause I gotta say, you guys really remind me a lot of each other."

"Thank you," Abby and Penelope said in unison, their bouncing head bobs in perfect synchronization.

"No problem." Derek grinned as he leaned heavily against Garcia's side. "But seriously, when I left, some foxy nurse was passin' him 'er number and Dinozzo was eatin' it up with a spoon."

Abby laughed with a roll of her eyes. "Sounds like Tony."

"He took a harder hit of those drugs than I did, but the docs think he's gonna be fine," Morgan told her softly, watching as her shoulders sagged in obvious relief.

Exhaling a long breath, Abby smiled and nodded. "Thanks," she said softly, shrugging as she caught the knowing look in the others' eyes. "It's sorta like having a brother in the hospital. We're family, you know."

"We sooooo know." Penelope nodded enthusiastically, reaching across Derek to squeeze Abby's hand. "It's how we feel about each other, too."

"I guess that's why we get along so well. We know how important our family is to us," Abby said softly. "Okay," she said as she inhaled deeply, slamming her hands against her leather clad thighs. "I need a Caf-Pow before I face one more hinky detail about this frickin' freak." She glared at her computer. "Can I bring you guys back anything? Coffee? Tea? My own special blend of beverage?"

Derek grinned, shaking his head carefully. "I'm good."

"I could use a shot of caffeinated goodness. Your choice," Pen trilled as she grinned.

"Two Caf-Pows it is," Abby replied as she bounced up, popping up and down on her four-inch heels. "If Gibbs..."

"I'll let him know where you went," Garcia said gently.

"Thanks," Abby replied cheerfully before bouncing down the hall, her black ponytail swinging behind her.

"That is one unique chick," Derek chuckled, watching as the Goth woman disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

"She's awesome," Garcia countered immediately as she smiled. "And brilliant," she added, dropping her head against Derek's shoulder. "But, right now, I wanna talk about how you very nearly scared two decades off my life today! Seriously, D, I'm not sure if I want to kiss you or kill you myself," she grumbled, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne deeply, the aroma like comfort food for her soul.

Derek grinned, nuzzling his lady's cheek. "I'll opt for the first option."

Tilting her head up to meet his lips, Penelope murmured, "Fine, but I still reserve the right to act on option number two should you pull anything like this again."

Covering Penelope's lips, Derek kissed her softly, his lips caressing hers lovingly as his arm tightened around her. Pulling back a moment later, he rested his forehead against hers. "It's cases like this that make me almost wish I could be one of those suits happy to sit behind a desk," he mumbled.

"Preach it," Pen snorted, closing her eyes as the warmth of his body seeped into her, reminding her that he was safe and whole and entirely alive.

"JJ?" Derek asked with hoarse hesitance.

"Still in surgery," Pen whispered, swallowing hard as she thought of her best friend. "We don't know anything about either her or Ann yet."

"Damn," Derek growled under his breath. "He got the jump on us, Baby Girl," Derek confided softly. "I never even saw him coming."

"It wasn't your fault," Penelope stated vehemently, capturing his hand again and tightening her fingers around his.

Shaking his head, Derek grimaced, his eyes darkening as the worry once again settled heavily against his chest. "If something happens to Jayje, that's not gonna help, Princess. Not any of us."

And sitting in the secure embrace of Derek's arms, Penelope Garcia nodded. "I know. But she's gonna make it, Handsome. She has to."

Turning sharply as they heard a throat being cleared in the doorway, Penelope saw Agent Gibbs staring uncomfortably at them, Abby standing behind him with two large plastic cups.

"JJ's out of surgery."


	170. Chapter 169

_**Author's Note: Our newest challenge is up and running on the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Join us for the Back to the Basics Challenge. All you have to do is suggest a pairing and three spring prompts for another author to write. We'll assign those prompts to someone else, and you'll receive an assignment based on another author's suggestion. As always, new authors are welcome to join us. Sign up on the forum today!**_

_**And for those of you who are concerned about plagiarism in the fanfic world, we'd love to hear your thoughts about how to prevent it and how to deal with it on our new Plagiarism thread. Sometimes imitation isn't the sincerest form of flattery - sometimes, it's just plain theft!**_

_**For those who want to chat about Paget Brewster's upcoming departure from our favorite show, we've opened up a thread just for that purpose. See what others are saying and add your comments!**_

_**Check out our Author of the Week thread, where we are featuring AhmoseInarus this week. Visit the thread, ask your questions, and Flashpenguin will gladly answer!**_

_**Fortune Cookie Friday has made a comeback! This simple challenge provides a fortune cookie saying just to get your creative juices flowing. There are no deadlines or signups – just checkout the thread, incorporate the fortune cookie saying into your fic, then post a link afterward. We love to see how everyone uses the same saying and comes up with unique and great stories!**_

_**Check us out on Facebook…just search for IlovetvalotFanfiction and send us a friend request today!**_

_**As always, we're thrilled that you take time to read our stories and leave your reviews. And while we deeply wish that we owned these amazing characters, we sadly realize that we don't and that we are merely borrowing them from the powers that be.**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Nine**

Waiting until Morgan and Penny had skirted around Gibbs in the narrow hallway, Abby dropped her cups on the nearby table and met Gibbs' tired eyes. Walking quickly toward him, she wrapped her arms around his narrow waist and rested her head against his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as his steady beating heart reminded her that he was safe. "Are you okay?" she asked huskily, her arms tightening around him as she spoke.

Gibbs sighed as he easily embraced her, dropping his nose against the crown of her head, the silky hairs tickling his skin. "I'm fine. I'm not the one that got shot out there," he answered her softly as his hand slid up and down her stiff spine comfortingly.

"Yeah, but it isn't every day you have to shoot some whack job that hurt not one, but two women you cared a lot about," Abby returned unevenly, shivering as she realized how lucky they both were.

"Shoot one sicko and it's not real hard to aim true on the next one. I've taken down a lot of sick bastards, Abs," Gibbs replied with a shrug. "The guy was an animal. He had to be taken down," he said simply.

"I know," Abby acknowledged softly, all too aware that he'd dealt with more than his fair share of sadistic creeps in his life. The knowledge did nothing to soothe her nerves, however, and she burrowed closer to him, needing that contact….the feel of the body that was so uniquely his against her. "That doesn't mean I think it's fair."

"Life isn't fair. If it was, JJ and Anne wouldn't be fighting for their lives right now," Gibbs replied hoarsely, helpless to do anything but wait and pray…two activities that he dreaded because of their seeming inaction.

Lifting her head to stare up at his dark eyes, Abby whispered, "Did you know anything besides what you told Morgan and Penny?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs swallowed. "No," he said huskily. "Dave and JJ's dad were talking to the doctor alone when I came down here to find you guys. But…"

"But?" Abby prodded hesitantly, seeing the flash of something in Gibbs's eyes that she rarely ever glimpsed. Raw fear.

"It didn't look good for either of them in the field, Abs. JJ had lost a lot of blood. And Anne…" he shook his head, his words trailing off as he stared into space.

Gripping his muscled arms, Abby shook him slightly. "No! Nuh uh! They're strong! We did not come down here to have this end up like some Greek tragedy, Gibbs. No way. Aren't Marine's all about the 'Never say die!' attitude? C'mon!"

Smiling faintly as he watched her dark expressive eyes flash, Gibbs chuckled. "Too bad that a recruiter didn't get a hold of you, Abs. I think you could have given the Corps a run for its money."

"I'm satisfied giving you a run for your money." She grinned sassily, her lips quirking up higher. "They're gonna make it, Gibbs. That jerk doesn't get to win again," she insisted vehemently, stomping her wedged heel against the linoleum floor.

Pulling her against him again, Gibbs rested his chin on Abby's head. "I hope you're right, Abs. I really do," he whispered softly.

$$0000$$

"How's my sprite?" Locke asked quickly as Dave closed the door to the surgeon's office.

"Were you able to repair the damage?" Dave asked almost at once, pausing to stand beside Locke in front of the severe looking physician's desk.

Holding up his hands, Dr. Beaumont shook his head and ordered, "Take a breath, both of you and sit down."

Pressing his lips together, Dave followed the demand in spite of his irritation. "How is Jennifer?" he asked roughly, gripping the arms of the chair as Locke lowered himself into the seat beside him.

"Agent Jareau is doing as well as can be expected considering her injuries. We were able to repair the damage to her spleen and got the internal bleeding under control. She lost quite a bit of blood. But, all things considered, she was pretty lucky."

"Lucky?" Dave snarled, his jaw clenching tightly as he glared at the physician. "I'd say she was anything but lucky, Beaumont. Being mangled by that son of a bitch twice in a lifetime disqualifies her from lucky, wouldn't you say?"

"She's alive, Agent Rossi. Honestly, I had my doubts that she'd survive surgery when we got to the operating room. But she was tougher than I expected. So, yeah, I do say lucky."

"She'll recover then?" Locke rasped, his lined face chalky and tormented by the doctor's grim analysis of the situation his daughter had faced.

"I believe so." The doctor slowly nodded. "She'll have a substantial recovery period ahead of her, but I don't have any reason to think that she won't pull through it. She's in recovery now. We'll move her into ICU soon. You can each see her then. After a day or so, if there are no complications, we'll move her to a private room on the surgical floor."

"I want to see her," Dave bit out, his gut clenching as he realized how close he'd come to losing the woman who'd become his entire world. "Now."

Locke nodded quickly, his grey eyebrows raising. "Me, too."

Looking between the two determined men in front of him, Dr. Beaumont sighed. He had a choice. He could adhere to the rules or he could be an actual human being. "All right. But only five minutes each until we get her settled in the ICU bed," he assented softly.

Nodding, Dave rose, pausing as he remembered the other woman currently immersed in a grueling surgery. "Wait. What about Anne? Do you know anything yet?"

"They're still operating," Doctor Beaumont replied quietly, his eyes glancing quickly toward the large white clock on the far wall. "Deputy Fortner's injuries are substantial, Agent Rossi."

"Odds?" Rossi asked hoarsely, his dark eyes meeting the other man's as JJ's father inhaled sharply and leaned heavily against his cane.

"The damage is substantial," the doctor admitted as she frowned. "If you want a number, I'd have to say fifty-fifty at this point. After I see that Agent Jareau has remained stable, I'm going to join her surgeon. It could still be several hours before we know anything concrete."

Closing his eyes a moment as he absorbed the doctor's grim response, Locke murmured, "Are you saying we need to prepare ourselves?"

Hanging his head a moment, Dr. Beaumont shook his head. "No, Locke. I'm saying that if you believe in God, you need to pray."

Swallowing hard, Dave gruffly demanded, "Take us to JJ, Doc."


	171. Chapter 170

_**Author's Note: Our newest challenge is up and running on the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Join us for the Back to the Basics Challenge. All you have to do is suggest a pairing and three spring prompts for another author to write. We'll assign those prompts to someone else, and you'll receive an assignment based on another author's suggestion. As always, new authors are welcome to join us. THERE ARE TWO DAYS LEFT TO SIGN UP. Sign up on the forum today!**_

_**And for those of you who are concerned about plagiarism in the fanfic world, we'd love to hear your thoughts about how to prevent it and how to deal with it on our new Plagiarism thread. Sometimes imitation isn't the sincerest form of flattery - sometimes, it's just plain theft!**_

_**For those who want to chat about Paget Brewster's upcoming departure from our favorite show, we've opened up a thread just for that purpose. See what others are saying and add your comments!**_

_**Check out our Author of the Week thread, where we are featuring AhmoseInarus this week. Visit the thread, ask your questions, and AhmoseInarus will gladly answer! And we also have a new thread regarding "Writing Disability Into Fanfic".**_

_**Fortune Cookie Friday has made a comeback! This simple challenge provides a fortune cookie saying just to get your creative juices flowing. There are no deadlines or signups – just checkout the thread, incorporate the fortune cookie saying into your fic, then post a link afterward. We love to see how everyone uses the same saying and comes up with unique and great stories!**_

_**Check us out on Facebook…just search for IlovetvalotFanfiction and send us a friend request today!**_

_**As always, we're thrilled that you take time to read our stories and leave your reviews. And while we deeply wish that we owned these amazing characters, we sadly realize that we don't and that we are merely borrowing them from the powers that be.**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy**

He had never seen her so pale. It was if every pore of her skin had suddenly lost all color, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he could tell the difference between her and the white sheets surrounding her. Forcing himself to focus, to breathe through the sudden shock, Dave stepped closer to JJ's bed in the quiet ICU area, her father right beside him.

Stroking his fingers against her cool arm as his eyes raked over her battered body, Dave murmured, "Babe, I'm here. I told you I wouldn't leave you."

But his words had no effect on the woman in the bed, her body well sedated and not responding to anything at that moment. And while a part of him knew that the induced sleep was exactly what she needed in order to recover quicker, he had to admit that he would give anything in the world to her open her eyes at that moment…to utter one word…any word!...that would let him know that she was indeed still inside.

He had fallen head over heels in love with this stubborn, beautiful woman….and he'd be damned if he lost her now. Not gonna happen. Not on his watch.

A faint movement distracted him, and Dave turned slightly to see Locke rubbing his fingers against JJ's sheet-covered leg.

"She's always been a scrapper….Always. Seeing her like this though…" the older man murmured, the words catching in his throat as he stared down at his daughter.

Nodding, Dave took in a deep breath as he reached around for a chair, sliding it behind JJ's father, the scrape of metal against the linoleum louder than he expected. "She's still a fighter, Locke. She might be down temporarily, but she's not out. Not by a long shot."

Locke slid gratefully into the chair but never took his fingers away from his daughter's leg. "You reckon she knows that bastard's dead?"

"She knew," Dave acknowledged huskily, leaning forward to brush JJ's hair off her cheek. "It was one of the last things she asked me," he admitted.

"Good." Locke nodded, picking up his daughters hand and holding it carefully cradled between his own. "All her life, she felt responsible for what happened, Rossi," Locke confided hoarsely. "I never could get through the stubborn skull that she wasn't to blame for any of it no matter how hard her mother and I tried. She would just shake her head…close off from us and go on thinking she should have been able to change things. Maybe now…when she wakes up, she can put this whole chapter to bed."

The two men sat in companionable silence for several minutes, each lost in their memories of the woman lying between them. Finally forcing his eyes away from JJ's still face, Dave gazed into the worn countenance of her father. "You need some rest, Locke."

"I'm not leaving," JJ's father returned, glaring across the bed at Rossi.

Like father, like daughter, Dave recognized grimly. Stubbornness appeared to be a familial trait. Hopefully logic and reason would work better on the men in the Jareau family more so than it did with JJ. "Listen," Dave replied softly. "I get it. Really, I do. But how pissed off do you think she's gonna be when she wakes up and learns that her father, who just had a heart attack, has been holding vigil at her bedside? You know your girl, Locke. You really wanna face that ass chewing?" he asked reasonably, carefully watching as the older man's eyes narrowed. "You know better than anybody what her temper Is like. Why give her one more thing to worry about? I'll call you if anything changes, but you heard the doctor just like I did. It could be hours before the anesthesia ebbs enough for her to open her eyes."

"You tryin' to manage me, Boy?" Locke growled, shifting in his seat as he leaned heavily against his cane, eyes identical to JJ's daring Dave to deny the obvious.

"Yeah," Dave stated simply, tightening his fingers around JJ's still fingers. "Because after she's done chewin' you out, she's gonna turn that wrath on ME. Full force."

Chuckling, Locke's lips tilted at the thought. "That's true."

"Try not to sound so happy about it," Dave grumbled under his breath, stroking JJ's hand as he muttered. As hard as he tried, he simply couldn't not touch her. Not after hours of wondering whether he'd ever feel the warmth of her palm against his again.

"So, I'd be doing you a favor if'n I went home and grabbed a nap then," Locke drawled, one shaggy brow arching as he faced the man that apparently cared about his daughter as much as he did.

"Something like that," Dave agreed, hoping against hope that his argument was penetrating the other man's dense skull. "Go get some rest, Locke. We both know that I'm not leaving her. One of us should get some rest. And since I'm younger…"

"Shove it," Locke returned gruffly. Rising slowly from his chair, he bent to brush a kiss against JJ's forehead before straightening. "So help me, Rossi, if she so much as twitches in her sleep…"

"You'll be the first to know," Dave replied truthfully, meeting the elder man's eyes in silent understanding.

"Any change at all, Rossi," Locke insisted.

"Any change at all."

Pressing his lips together as his faded blue eyes traveled back to JJ's face, Locke released a shaky breath. "He said she'd be alright," he murmured as much to remind himself of the doctor's earlier words as to seek Dave's reassurance.

"In time, Locke. She's got to heal," Dave reminded the elderly man steadily even as his fingers tightened around JJ's slack hand.

Nodding once, Locke forced himself to turn toward the door. "Call me. I'll tell the others that she's still out," he ordered sternly before limping out of the room.

Watching as the heavy steel door hissed closed, Dave closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before returning his gaze back to JJ. "It's just you and me again, babe," he whispered, brushing his thumb back and forth against her dry lips. Glaring at the monitor above her bed, he listened as the steady beep seemed jarring in the quiet room. He knew the sound should comfort him…reaffirm that her heartbeat was strong and steady. But instead, it only reminded him of where they were and what had led them here. "You've gotta wake up soon or I'm gonna go crazy, sweetheart," he murmured huskily as his eyes traveled over her thin body. "I've never been much good at waiting. And hell, you know patience is a foreign word to me."

"Too true," a deep voice agreed behind him.

Turning quickly, Dave met Jason Gideon's impassive gaze squarely.

"Anne?"

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	172. Chapter 171

**Author's Note: Hi Guys! This week Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum is shining the spotlight on our talented fellow author, "What-IfOnly. Please swing by and ask a question. And we invite all our fellow authors to swing by and leave a comment on our new thread, "Lessons Learned: Tell us what Writing Fanfic Has Taught YOU" as well as visiting any of our other active conversation threads. We'd love to have you.**

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* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter 171**

Emily Prentiss had been through hell and back before, but what she had just experienced seemed to trump all of her past experiences. Leaning against the tiled wall of the hospital hallway, she stared down at the floor as she took a deep breath, trying to find her center as she forced her thoughts to calm.

Her best friend had been kidnapped in spite of their best efforts, her body once again tormented by the man intent on killing her. Another law enforcement officer had been mutilated and might be not long for this earth. What had their world come to?

His footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and she easily recognized the shoes that suddenly appeared within her line of sight. No matter what, Aaron Hotchner always wore those certain leather loafers…and though they were scuffed and muddy, they were definitely his.

Raising her gaze to his stone-set face, Emily drew in a deep breath as she suddenly feared the worst. "JJ?" she demanded quickly, her shoulders stiffening as she mentally prepared herself.

Shaking his head, Hotch rested his hand against her forearm. "She's out of surgery. Rossi and Locke are with her now. She made it."

She made it. Emily processed those words for a moment, allowing herself to take comfort in that simple phrase. Nodding once, she whispered, "Anne? Anything yet?"

"Still in surgery. It's touch and go," Hotch answered, shaking his head as he nodded toward the chairs in the nearby waiting room. "Sit with me for a moment."

Sliding into the chair beside him, Emily smiled as he automatically reached for her hand. Funny how near misses could make someone more open to new possibilities…or how it could just not make a person give a damn who knows what. Clasping her fingers around his, she exhaled a long breath as she eyed the double wooden doors leading back to the surgical area. "Where's Jason," she asked in a hushed voice. Looking around at the empty seats, she frowned. "Hell, where is everybody?"

"Jason is off somewhere pacing…or praying. He alternates. And I told everybody else to take an hour break. Tempers were frayed, nerves areshot….it was just a matter of time before somebody head-butted somebody else. I thought a break might dispel some of the tension."

"Wise move," Emily agreed, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she shifted in the chair beside him.

Shaking his head grimly as he attempted to take his own advice, Hotch murmured, "This wasn't a win, Emily. We might have got him in the end, but the cost on this one…it was more than any of us wanted to pay. One federal agent and one local LEO down."

"It's bad, but it could have been a hell of a lot worse, Aaron," Emily reminded him gently, her voice low but sure. "Neither JJ or Anne is dead. And the unsub…whoever the psycho was…definitely is. Any word on his backstory yet?" she asked hesitantly, aware that loose ends drove Hotch insane. He was a man that always liked the complete story. And JJ's nemesis was far from an open book, no matter how hard they had all tried to complete that profile.

"Nothing yet," Hotch said tersely, his jaw clenching. "Abby and Garcia are still working on it."

Nodding, Emily lapsed into silence as Aaron stared into space, still gripping her hand like a lifeline. Every once in a while, she saw his eyes drift toward the clock ticking on the wall in front of them, but for the most part he remained motionless.

After several minutes of silence, he cleared his throat, his fingers tightening around hers. "Emily," he said huskily, "about us…"

His deep voice startled her, and his words sent a jolt of alarm through her body. "Yeah," she offered softly.

"I've been thinking….when we get home, I'd like to tell Jack about us if that's okay with you," he said uncertainly, his eyes glancing quickly toward her to gauge her reaction.

Surprised, Emily swallowed quickly. She'd been expecting him to backtrack…to offer her all the reasons why a relationship between them wouldn't work. She had definitely not been prepared for himto introduce the concept of a "them" to his son. "You do?"

Nodding, Hotch turned fully to look at her, his handsome face serious under the glaring lights above them. Seeing the flash of surprise in her eyes, Hotch grinned slightly. "I can see that I said something unexpected."

"I…you…I honestly thought this was going to be the "It's not you, it's me" speech," she finally managed truthfully, shaking her head as she tried to clear her confusing thoughts.

"Well, I hope that's relief shining in your eyes, otherwise I've made a complete fool out of myself," Hotch said softly.

"You really want to tell Jack about us?" Emily asked incredulously, tilting her head as she tried to read his facial expression, searching for any deception that would lead her to disbelieve his words.

"Well, I wasn't exactly going to suggest we share the intimate details. Rather, I wanted to let him know that we'd be seeing more of you around our house. That we're dating."

"Do you think he'd be all right with that?" Emily asked worriedly.

Jack loves you, Emily," Hotch reassured her quickly, smiling. "He loves spending time with you. I think he'll be thrilled. But, I realize that telling him makes this…more complicated."

"It makes it real, Aaron," Emily asserted, cutting to the heart of the matter with one deft slice. "And if we tell him, we have to be sure….or at the very least, relatively certain, that all this," she said, gesturing between them, "is leading somewhere. Else, we'll only confuse him."

"Em, I know that developing our relationship isn't without some unique challenges, but I know what I want and who I want to have it with. I'm not going to pretend like things haven't changed between us. We both know that they have. Telling Jack is just another part of the process. Besides, you know my son. He'll figure it out with or without us."

Smiling, Emily couldn't deny that. Jack Hotchner was every bit as intuitive as his father even at his young age. "That's true," she acknowledged.

"So, what do you say, Agent Prentiss?" Hotch asked, his stomach churning nervously.

"I say that I can't wait to go home," Emily whispered, leaning toward him and pressing her lips against his.


	173. Chapter 172

_**Author's Note: Hi, ya'll. There are so many exciting things going on over at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum this week! First, we have a brand new April challenge up for those that wish to participate. All the details can be found there, but basically, sign up to write your favorite character. You'll be assigned a random Original Character to pair them with in some capacity. For example, sign up with "David Rossi" and you might be assigned the OC of the second Mrs. David Rossi. Sign-ups are through March 31,2012.**_

_**Also, there's a brand new "Author of the Week" thread and this week our spotlight is on the fabulous jekkah. And, we've added a new discussion thread, "The OCs of Criminal Mind" for productive conversation regarding original characters.**_

_**Fortune Cookie Friday prompts are up for your consideration. And, we'd still like to hear from you on the idea of a Criminal Minds Fanfiction Reading Day. The idea is to choose one Sunday a month to set aside for reading and reviewing the many fantastic stories in the CM fandom. Swing by and comment on any of our discussion threads. We'd love to have you.**_

_**And a supersized thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and/or alerting our work. We appreciate each one of you. Feel free to friend us on facebook at either "Ilovetvalot Fanfiction" or "Tonnie Fanfiction". We've got several fun things going on there too and a whole host of uber-talented author and reader friends chatting.**_

_**As always, Happy Reading!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred Seventy – Two**

"Anne?"

Jason Gideon shrugged as he met his long-time friend's worried eyes. "Nothing different yet. The nurse just told me that she'll bring me an update as soon as she can."

Nodding as he easily catalogued the fatigue telegraphing in the other man's countenance, David Rossi motioned toward the chair on the other side of JJ's bed. "Sit, Jason. You're gonna need the rest."

Easing down into the chair, Gideon glanced up at the woman lying still in the oversized bed. "How is she, Dave? What did the doctors say?"

Gently squeezing JJ's hand again, Dave lowered himself into his own chair, scooting closer to JJ's bed in the process. Meeting Gideon's eyes across the bed, he said, careful to keep his voice low, "We're damn lucky is what they said. A few inches either way and this wouldn't have turned out as good as it did."

"That's one bullet we've dodged," Jason replied, dropping his eyes back to his hands in his lap.

Dave didn't have to be a profiler to know what his friend was experiencing. Hell, he'd been through the exact same thing himself over the past few days. Except he knew that JJ was alive and right in front of him where he could see her. Jason didn't have that same assurance.

"Look, old man," Dave began softly, letting out a sigh, "Anne's a fighter. If anyone can make it through this, it's her."

"Yeah," Jason replied gruffly. Dropping his head, Jason ran a hand over his whiskered face. He needed a shave. And a shower. But the idea of leaving now…when Anne's life was hanging by a precarious thread...it didn't bear thinking about. "Jesus, Dave," Gideon growled in frustration, "I haven't felt this way since…"

"Sarah?" Dave asked softly, looking up from JJ's face. "It's not the same, Jase."

"Really?" Jason grunted, the doubt sounding harshly in that one word. "I didn't keep Anne safe, Dave. How the fuck is it all that different?" he asked bitterly. "It's my modus operandi. A good woman…a woman that's more than I deserve to have takes an interest, and she ends up hurt."

Rolling his eyes, Dave prayed JJ would flutter those slumbering lids of hers. She'd know the tactful, appropriate response to say to the man sitting morosely across the bed from him. Unfortunately, all Jason had was him. And sadly, he didn't have a discreet bone in his body. "Would you please come down off the cross, man?" he asked irritably, glaring at the other profiler. "You aren't responsible for what happened today any more than you were five years ago. Shit happens. Often, to good people. Case in point." Dave nodded to an unconscious JJ for emphasis. "All you can do is be there when it does. You were. Both times. Here's the real question. When Anne comes thru this…and she will, Jason," Dave stressed sharply as the other man frowned, "You gonna be here for her or are you gonna bail on her the way you did to your team?"

"Fuck you," Gideon hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously as he glared at Rossi, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's not an answer," Dave replied carelessly, his fingers stroking JJ's hand again, needing the constant contact, needing to feel the warmth of her skin.

"Go to hell, Rossi," Gideon spat, his own self-hatred fueling his already simmering anger.

Dave replied with a wry smile, "Still no an answer."

"Damn you," Gideon managed past the pain clenching his gut. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Surprisingly, yeah," Dave answered as he shrugged, well aware of the harshness of his tone and the way the other man was responding. "My question is why? Look, Gid, you tried outrunning the pain before. How the hell far did you get, man? You alienated every fucking person that gave a damn about you in some attempt at self flagellation. But you know what? Sarah was still dead. Bad things happen to people that don't deserve it. It's gonna happen whether you're there or not. If you ask me, it's easier to bear when you've got backup. And Anne…she's gonna need a hell of a lot of support when this is over. Man the fuck up and be what she's gonna need," he stated flatly. "Or, be a coward and run now. It's up to you."

Inhaling deeply as he heard the challenge in his friend's voice, Gideon pressed his lips together. "You know, you can be a real prick," he finally growled.

"Mmm," Dave hummed, turning his eyes back to JJ's pale face. "True enough. But the last thing that this prick is gonna do is run out on her, now or ever," he swore softly as he nodded at JJ.

"I just found her, Dave," Gideon confided huskily, his deep voice tight with emotions he wasn't ready to give a voice.

"Yeah, I know that feeling," Dave acknowledged softly, his eyes still soft on JJ's face. "And given both of our current circumstances, there's really only one thing either of us can do."

"Yeah? What's that?" Gideon sighed tiredly.

Gripping JJ's wrist in his hand, Dave replied, "Hang on to them for dear life, Jase. Hang on tight."

Simple, but true, Gideon admitted to himself, watching as Dave's eyes went back to JJ. And damn if the old bastard didn't have a point. He could run away from what he felt. He could stick his head back up his own ass and pray he could forget those green eyes and red hair. Or, for once in his life, he could face facts.

He was in love. Possibly with a woman that might be the death of him.

"Well, hell," he muttered, pushing out of the chair opposite Dave.

"Where ya going?" Dave asked without looking away from JJ.

"To bully or beat some answers from someone," Gideon answered grimly. "Whichever works."

Smiling as he heard the door close a moment later, Dave dropped his head and chuckled softly. Lowering his head to rest against JJ's leg, he closed his eyes and almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand settle on his head.

"You know your method could use some work, but you get points for effort," a hoarse voice whispered.

Jerking upright, Dave's eyes widened as his heartbeat escalated as he stared into the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

JJ smiled weakly. "Hi."

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_**Please take a moment and leave a comment if you have time. We'd love to hear from you! Thanks for reading.**_


	174. Chapter 173

**Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying these stories. A big thank you to everyone still reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting. We truly appreciate hearing from each one of you.**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Three**

Hi. She just said hi. And in that moment, when time seemed to stand still and he swore he could hear angels singing in the heavens, David Rossi realized that that simple two-letter word was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Bar none. A close second was hearing her say she loved him, but considering where they were and everything that had happened, he could afford to be patient.

"Hi yourself," he whispered, unsure of his own voice as he tried to force the energy to respond, his chest constricting as he drew in a deep breath. Seeing her trying to push up from her pillow, he pressed his free hand gently against her shoulders. "No moving, babe. Not yet." Seeing that first flash of rebellion snapping in her still drugged eyes pulled a smile to his lips. She was still in there…after all the trauma, his girl was still very much present and accounted for in the small hospital room. "For me, Bella. Just stay still, okay?"

Wincing as she attempted to take a shallow breath, JJ squeezed his fingers in response as she wheezed, "How bad is it?" If the haggard look of the man she loved was any indication, things were pretty dire. His haunted eyes reflected a bone deep fear…fear she had never wanted to be responsible for putting there. He looked like somebody had shot his best friend. Not far off the mark, her mind mocked as she eyed the bandages covering her abdomen. One thing she knew for certain: being stabbed hurt a hell of a lot more than a pansy ass bullet.

"Things are a hell of a lot better now that I can see those baby blues of yours," Dave assured her gratefully as he cupped her cheek, sweeping his thumb against her pale cheek. "You lost a lot of blood, but they managed to repair the damage. The up side is your gonna get to enjoy your lengthy recovery with me, though," he said as he winked down at her.

The beeping of the surrounding machines increased just then, and Dave jerked his eyes quickly to the monitors, his heartbeat racing suddenly as his fears compounded. "Jen? You okay, babe?"

Barely shaking her head, her matted blonde hair shifting against the starched pillowcase, JJ whispered, "Hurts to breath. But it's okay." Damn, she thought, she'd scared him again. His face looked tight and the vein in his forehead bulged as he shifted his gaze back to her worriedly.

A new voice interrupted, the strident tone brooking no argument. "I'll be the judge of that, Agent Jareau," declared the ICU nurse as she slipped into the space on the other side of JJ's bed. "Let's take a look at things, shall we?"

Watching as the woman silenced the noisy machines and grabbed her chart from the end of the bed, JJ frowned. Nurse Ratchet needed some lessons in bedside manner, she thought grimly as the nurse touched her tender belly. "Oww," she complained when fingers probed a particularly sensitive area.

"Watch it, lady," Dave growled possessively, his eyes narrowing on the so-called professional tending JJ, "In case you missed it, she just had surgery."

"I'm aware," the nurse replied tiredly, shooting the man a dark look. "I was in the room with her while it was happening. Dr. Beaumont made it clear she was a VIP more than once, but I have to check the surgical field for swelling. It's not pleasant for the patient or me, but it's a hell of a lot better than battling an infection in her condition."

"Dave," JJ warned, squeezing his fingers with as much strength as she could manage, which, unfortunately, was minimal at best. "It's okay. She's just doing her job," she managed breathlessly.

Checking JJ's drainage tubes, the nurse nodded her approval. "Still hard to breathe, Agent Jareau?" she asked.

"Yeah." JJ nodded, grimacing as her incisions pulled again while she tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

"Understandable." The lady in blue scrubs nodded, reaching for the oxygen tubing and slipping the cannula into JJ's nostrils. "Your right lung collapsed during surgery. The doctor repaired it and reinflated, but your body took a devil of a hit. Keep the oxygen on. I know it stings," she murmured when JJ curled her nose and reached for it. "You, however," she said sternly, capturing the younger woman's hand, "_need_ it."

"Fine," JJ grumbled, dropping her head back against the pillow tiredly.

Jaw dropping slightly at how easily JJ had given in, Dave grunted, "Fine? That's it?" Staring across the bed at the nurse busily scribbling notes, he shook his head. "You're gonna have to teach me how you did that. She argues with everything I say."

Lifting her head to look at the slack jawed man, the woman shrugged. "Perhaps you don't make offer logical explanations regarding your orders."

JJ wasn't sure which amused her more…the nurse's accurate assessment or Dave's annoyed face. It wasn't often someone got the jump on Rossi, let alone rendered him speechless.

"I think you need a new nurse," Dave muttered grumpily.

"I think you need a new husband," the nurse said with a sympathetic look down at her patient.

Not bothering to correct her, JJ smiled, honestly feeling the happiness in spite of the pain her body was in. "He's not usually this bad."

"You don't usually get stabbed either," Dave replied defensively. "I have cause to be concerned. And protective," he added with a measured look at the nurse.

"Everything looks good here," the woman informed them both easily, tucking the sheet back around JJ. "The doctor has ordered morphine for you for the next twelve hours," she explained, pressing the depressor into JJ's hand. "You can hit it when you feel like you need it. It has preset limits. Don't be afraid to push the button if the pain gets too bad. Doctor Beaumont will be in soon to see you again. You should both try and get some rest."

"Wait!" JJ demanded, closing her hand around the older woman's wrist when she would have escaped. "My friend, Anne. Deputy Fortner. Where is she?"


	175. Chapter 174

_**Author's Note: Oh, so many exciting tidbits to share with all of you today! First, who doesn't like a chance to win free stuff? I know I do! And that's what Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum's new "Pay It Forward Review Incentive Program" is ALL about! Reviewers get the chance to win an Amazon Gift Card for themselves AND an author for a story that they review! Cool, huh? Details can be found at the forum thread! Please, check it out! April will have TWO drawings…that's a total of four giftcards up for grabs, folks! This month the thread is focusing on ANY story in which HOTCH is a primary character! It's DEFINITELY worth a look. VERY FEW HAVE PARTICIPATED THUS FAR, BUT WE HOPE YOU WILL ALL TAKE A LOOK AT SOME POINT!**_

_**We also have several new threads designed to help readers and authors, alike. Check out the "Morsels for the Muse" thread for some creative inspiration AND our thread called "Facebook Happenings!" to find out what current fun activities are ongoing in that arena! ALSO, we have a wonderful spotlight on Author of the Week, rockhotch31. Pop by and ask a question. She's super excited to hear from you!**_

_**New details on the upcoming challenge will be announced in the next day or so. I hope ya'll like it!**_

_**As always, we appreciate everyone that continues to read, review and favorite our stories. It's a pleasure to write for you. Thanks for being so awesome to us!**_

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Four**

Jason Gideon stared down at the pale face of the woman that had become more important to him than any other. Breathing shallowly, afraid that even the slight disturbance of air might disrupt the fragile environment that was the ICU, he imagined he could hear Rossi and JJ whispering on the other side of the small unit, but the sound barely even registered as he kept all of his senses focused on Anne.

Anne. Anne was all that mattered.

The doctor had told him just a mere five minute ago that she was out of surgery, and Jason could still hear the doubtful tones ringing from the man's voice. Words still flew through his mind, their ominous meanings weighing heavily. Great loss of blood. Major organ damage. Renal failure possible in the remaining kidney due to trauma.

The nurses bustled around him suddenly, and Jason jerked his head up as he heard the machines beep loudly. "What's happening?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he sought out Anne's face, searching for some clue as to what impending doom now lurked..

"We're just adding some new meds," replied the brunette in yellow scrubs, her hands quickly shifting the tubing connected to Anne's arm. "Unfortunately, you're gonna hear all manner of bells and whistles in the ICU. Try not to let it alarm you," she advised, never raising her eyes from her task.

A moan suddenly interrupted the hustle and bustle, and Gideon jerked his eyes toward the bed quickly. Pushing a nurse out of the way, he grabbed Anne's hand and squeezed gently as he demanded hoarsely, "Red? You in there, sweetheart?"

"She's heavily drugged, Agent Gideon, and her body is still surfing the effects of the anesthesia. It will be hours before she's coherent enough to respond," the older of the two nurses working to get Anne settled explained.

"But talking to her is recommended," the younger nurse encouraged quickly as she watched the man's haggard face tighten. "It's uncertain how much she actually hears in this condition so all the positive reinforcement you can give her helps."

Seeing the older nurse shoot the younger a dark look, Gideon stiffened. "You disagree?" he asked, eyeing the steely haired woman standing across from him.

"I suppose I'm more old school. I believe the quieter the environment, the more conducive it is to a healing atmosphere. Besides which, you aren't really supposed to be back here. You or your colleague," she declared haughtily with a look over her shoulder toward Rossi.

Rolling her eyes, the younger nurse sighed. "It's been cleared, Gladys. You heard Doc Beaumont just like I did."

Huffing out an irritated breath, Gladys turned on her heel and walked out the sliding glass doors of the cubicle. "I think I'll just check with the Doctor again. This goes against every protocol this hospital has," she threw over her shoulder.

"You do that, Gladys," the woman whose nametag read Ami called. "Ignore her," the brunette offered softly to Gideon. "She's a stickler for the rules and a sour puss to boot. Doc Beaumont will set her straight. The whole town is behind y'all on this. You're local heroes. All of you," she said, patting her patient's hand.

"Thanks," Gideon muttered, his eyes drawn back to Ann's wan face. "I don't think any of us much feel like heroes at the moment though. And if Nurse Ratchet thinks I'm moving a muscle, she'd better come back locked and loaded."

"Tell you what," the brunette cajoled as she winked, "You trip 'er, and I'll kick 'er."

Cracking his first smile in what felt like a lifetime, Gid chuckled. "The idea definitely has some merit. Is she always like that or am I special?"

"I'd love to tell you you're one of a kind, but that would be a lie. Gladys treats everybody the same. Usually like crap." Nurse Ami smiled sympathetically. "But, the up side is that nothing is more important to her than the patients placed in her care. She's a first rate intensive care nurse. She just lacks….well….feelings."

"I've worked with a few people like that," Gideon murmured as he nodded, "They're a real party to be around."

Laughing softly as she noted Anne's blood pressure on the chart, Ami nodded. "Yep, they are," she said, making careful notes as she eyed Anne's output critically.

"So, now that the battle-axe is gone, would you mind telling me how Red really is," he said, nodding down at Anne's still body.

Lifting her head, Ami swallowed tightly. This was the most difficult part of her job….offering hope when it had all but been lost.

Seeing the uncertainty flare in the younger woman's eyes, he pleaded hoarsely, "Just give it to me straight."

"Agent Gideon, I could get…"

"No," Gideon said roughly, his words cutting through her soft tone. "You were in surgery with her. You know as well as anybody what went on in there. Just tell me. Is she going to be okay?"

Her heart went out to the older man. Fear shined brightly in his eyes. His entire body was cloaked in the agony only someone in love could exude when the person they cared for was in danger. "I can't answer that," she said softly. "Only time will tell. We're waiting to see if her remaining kidney can compensate. I can tell you that it's a miracle that she made it this far. Patients with far less injuries haven't. She's a fighter and she's fighting with everything she has. You hold on to that in the next few hours," she advised gently. "Medicine can only do so much…but know that there's someone waiting for you…that's cheering you on…I've seen that work wonders. But, if you're a religious or spiritual man, a few prayers couldn't hurt."

Nodding as he watched the young woman slip away on silent feet, Jason turned his eyes back to Anne's face. "You hear that, Red? You're defying the odds. You just keep right on doing it," he ordered, stroking her cheek with one finger. Swallowing hard, he whispered in a voice that cracked, "I can't believe you managed to tie me up in knots like this. I was supposed to be on my way out of this one horse town. I was all set to do it, too. Walk away and never look back. But I couldn't. I can't. I can't leave you. So, if you want me gone, you're gonna have to wake up and kick my ass out of here. You hear that?"

Only the monitors beeped in response; Anne remained silent and still. Moving his hand to her cascading red hair, his fingers toyed with one of the curls, sliding it between his fingertips. "I didn't come here to fall in love, Red. I came to right a decades old mistake. I came here to finish a job…but, I never counted on you. I never imagined that I'd meet a woman that could match me step for step…quip for quip. But you did," he said with a proud smile. "You kept me on my toes…challenged me at every turn. And I enjoyed it," he continued, surprise coloring his soft words. "Nobody was more surprised by that than me," he chuckled huskily. "But it's the truth. I met my match. So, you've gotta come back. Even if it's just to kick my ass for being a jerk, okay?" he begged, his eyes stinging.

And bowing his head, he began to pray.


	176. Chapter 175

**_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._**

**_Second, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_**

**_First, we have opened our next challenge to participants. "The Future Fic Challenge" thread is open on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Rules and explanation of the challenge are there as well. In short, choose one character and get assigned a random secondary character to tell a story set in the year 2022. It looks like a lot of fun._**

**_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._**

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**_This week's author of the week is the talented Flames101. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Five**

Dave captured JJ's fingers once again just as her question slipped from her lips. "Babe, right now, let's focus on getting you better, ok?"

Narrowing her eyes with as much concentration as she could muster, the medications and pain taking away her control that she so desperately wanted to maintain, JJ whispered, "But I need to know, Dave. Tell me what's going on with Anne. Please." Glancing back at the nurse, she demanded, "Please tell me. Is she alive?"

"She's alive, babe," Dave assured her softly, squeezing her hand again. Exchanging a look with the nurse, he let out a sigh. "And she's out of surgery now. Gid's with her right now."

Stepping forward, the nurse met JJ's eyes as she said calmly, "Agent Jareau, Deputy Fortner survived the repair operations and is hanging on. That's the best we can hope for right now. She had extensive internal damage, but she was in good physical shape before so that will help her recover."

Dropping her head back against the pillow, JJ scrunched her eyes closed. "She was only trying to help me. She didn't deserve this. What if…"

"Okay, babe, that's enough," Dave interrupted, pressing his finger to her chapped lips as the monitors around her suddenly beeped. "You have to focus on yourself right now."

"Agent Rossi's right," the nurse added, tapping JJ's hand to draw her attention. "And you need to let your body rest. The morphine will help you."

Frowning as she felt a rush of heat overwhelming her, JJ's eyes widened. "I feel funny," JJ said faintly, turning her head toward Dave. "Dave…," she whispered, reaching for his hand.

Jerking his eyes from JJ to the nurse, Rossi barked, "What's going…"

"It's the medication," the scrubs clad nurse consoled calmly, adjusting the monitor. "Just relax, Agent Jareau. You, too, Agent Rossi," she added a little more sharply.

Turning his focus back to JJ's face, he watched her blink slowly several times before her eyelids finally slid shut. Swallowing hard at the suddenness of her loss of consciousness, he heard the nurse's soothing voice again.

"Morphine does that. It floods the system with a rush of heat and then relaxes the patient into sleep. She'll stir again in a couple of hours."

"You're sure?" he asked uncertainly, stroking JJ's hair. "There's nothing else wrong?"

"Nope. Her body needs to rest and recover," she answered briskly as she finished adjusting the monitors. "She's in much better shape than I expected."

"What about Deputy Fortner?" Dave asked, nodding his head down the row of cubicles to where Gideon sat with his head bent.

Looking over her shoulder, the nurse sighed. "That's a bit dicey," she murmured with a slight frown. "The damage was extensive. The one thing I know, though, is that miracles happen all the time. Are you friends with the man down there?" she asked gently.

Friendship. Now that was a word that he wouldn't have used to describe his relationship with Jason Gideon, but given the current situation, that was exactly what they had developed. "Yeah," Dave muttered as he nodded. "I am."

"Go talk to him. Offer him some hope," she directed Dave sternly. "Your girl here is doing just fine. I'll stay with her while you go see to your friend," she offered.

Eyes lingering on JJ's still face, Dave murmured, "You're sure?"

"Positive." She nodded. "Go. Force him out of there for a cup of coffee or something. He's going to have a long haul. So are you ,for that matter. Taking breaks is sort of a necessity. Go outside, see the sunshine. Remind yourselves that life is still going on outside of this hospital."

Rising from the uncomfortable chair he sat in, Dave nodded. He definitely wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee, even if it was cafeteria grade quality. "Thanks," he murmured before slipping out the sliding glass door of the cubicle. Walking slowly down the tiled hallway in front of the nurse's station, he noted that the ICU was mostly empty. JJ and Anne weren't one in a number. It appeared to be them and about three other occupied beds.

Pausing just outside Anne's cubicle door, he kept his voice low. "Jason?"

Turning, Gideon stared at Dave with bloodshot eyes. "Dave? Is JJ okay?" he asked, sitting up straighter as he craned his neck to see JJ's cubicle. "She hasn't taken a turn for the worse, has she?"

"She's stable," Dave said as he shook his head, taking a step inside the room. "You okay, man?" he asked, looking between Jason and Anne's nurse.

"I'm fine. We won't know anything about Anne for awhile," Jason informed him heavily, running a hand over his stubbled jaw. "All we can do is wait."

"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," Dave agreed, shooting a look toward JJ's bed. Her nurse had taken his chair and was making notes on her chart. "Listen, why don't we walk down to the cafeteria? Stretch our legs and grab a cup of Joe?"

"No," Jason denied gruffly, his hand tightening around Anne's hand. "I'm not leaving her, Dave."

"You aren't leaving her, Jase. You're gonna come downstairs with me and grab a cup of coffee so that you can refuel. Neither one of us will do these women any good if we fall out. And in case you haven't noticed, we've got a few years on them," Dave added as he smirked.

"Then why are they in these beds and not us?" Jason growled, his jaw tensing. "God knows we've done enough to deserve it."

"Believe it or not, I've been sitting beside JJ asking myself that same question," Dave sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "I haven't been getting any answers though."

"Yeah, me neither," Jason admitted, stroking his thumb against the blue vein in Anne's hand, so pale and still against his own. "I'm pretty sure God has turned off his answering machine when it comes to me."

"Jason," Dave murmured, taking a step forward as Gideon's shoulders shook. "You need to take a break, man," he said softly. "C'mon. Fifteen minutes."

"I'll page you if there are _any_ problems," Anne's nurse assured him with a kind voice.

Swallowing hard as he got control of his emotions, Jason rose and followed Dave from the room.

* * *

_**Drop a line and let us know that you are still reading….we're coming to the end of the road on this one!**_


	177. Chapter 176

**_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._**

**_Second, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_**

**_First, we have opened our next challenge to participants. "The Future Fic Challenge" thread is open on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Rules and explanation of the challenge are there as well. In short, choose one character and get assigned a random secondary character to tell a story set in the year 2022. It looks like a lot of fun._**

**_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._**

**_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of April, anyone that reviews a Hotch related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._**

**_This week's author of the week is the talented Flames101. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._**

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Six**

Staring morosely at the table in front of him, Jason Gideon silently cursed Rossi for persuading him to leave Anne's side. What if she woke up and he wasn't there? Would she know that she wasn't alone? Or, would she assume she'd been abandoned again by him…left to face a new nightmare alone?

Curling his nose as Dave shoved a paper plate in front of him, Gideon's stomach recoiled. The combination of the unwelcome food aromas and his own darkening thoughts did not create an appetizing situation.

"Eat it," Dave growled, dropping into the chair across from the grim faced man. "You need your strength."

"You eat it," Gideon retorted, shoving the food away, the plate scraping against the table

"I'm not the one that's gonna need the energy to convince a woman that I love her. Jennifer already knows and accepts how I feel about her," Dave said easily as he shrugged. "You, on the other hand, are gonna have your work cut out for you in the days ahead."

"Gee, thanks, Dave," Gideon replied sarcastically, glaring over at the other man. "I _didn't_ know that. Don't you think I realize how badly I'm fucked here? You wanna make me feel worse? Sorry, but I don't think even you can manage that feat."

"But you're still here," Dave stated evenly. "Says a lot, don't you think?"

"Of course I'm still here," Jason agreed softly, reaching for the Styrofoam cup of what passed for coffee around here. "Where the hell else would I go? I can't _leave_ her up there alone."

"Finally got that through your head? I wondered how long it would take you to wrap your mind around that fact," Dave offered, lifting his own coffee to his lips.

"Don't be a dick," Gideon muttered, picking halfheartedly at the chips on the plate. "I'm not in the mood."

Shrugging, Dave grabbed half the club sandwich on the plate and took a bite. "Hey, you think I'm a tough audience, just wait until Anne wakes up."

"If she wakes up," Gid worried, massaging his temple, fear gnawing at his gut like acid.

"She will," Dave said confidently, unwilling to contemplate anything else.

"How can you sit there and be so sure," Jason mumbled, scratching his shadowed jaw as he glared at his old friend. "You've heard what the so-called experts are saying up there. I haven't heard anything positive, Dave."

"Then you weren't listening very hard," Dave countered. "She survived surgery, Jase. That's a big step in the right direction. Have some faith, for crying out loud."

Jason finished the rest of his coffee in silence and even managed to force down a couple of bites of the sandwich to get Dave off his back. Finally pushing away the remaining food, he wiped his face with a napkin. "How long have we been gone?"

"'Bout half an hour," Dave replied, glancing at his watch. "You feeling better?"

"More awake," Gideon said, shrugging his shoulders as the pager strapped to his belt beeped insistently. Jerking it into his hand, Jason surged to his feet.

"What?" Rossi demanded as Jason's face paled.

Staring at Dave in stunned silence, Jason hoarsely replied, "She's conscious," before hurrying toward the exit.

_**$$XXX$$**_

Dodging doctors and nurses alike as he hurried into the Intensive Care Unit, Jason Gideon wiped the sweat off his brow. Flying up five flights of stairs could do that to even a young man, which he most definitely was not. Spotting Anne's nurse hovering outside her cubicle, Jason's heart lodged in his throat as Dave's footsteps echoed behind him.

"She's waiting for you," the Nurse said quickly as she smiled, stepping out of his way when he would have ran her over. "Her doctor is on his way upstairs, too."

Nodding once as he sped past her into the area assigned to Anne, the first thing he noticed was her eyes. Wide open and confused, she stared at him. "Hey," he smiled encouragingly, capturing her hand when she would have reached for the tube in her mouth. "You can't do that, Red," he chided softly. "You need that for now."

Seeing her frown around the tube, he continued, "Just for a little while longer." Watching as her eyebrows drew together, he knew she was searching for answers. "You're going to be okay, but you've had a rough time of it."

Her gaze pleaded with him to continue, so he inhaled deeply and forged ahead. "Do you remember the cabin?" Seeing her barely perceptible nod, he went on. "They had to do surgery on you…"

Seeing her shake her head slightly, he felt her hand surround his, turning it over. Frowning, he stared down as she moved her finger against his palm over and over again. "J?" he spoke aloud. "JJ?" he asked, shifting his gaze back to her face. "She's okay, sweetheart. She's alive," he assured her gently, catching a hot tear drop as it leaked out of the corner of her eye. "You're _both _going to be okay," Jason insisted, his heart breaking as her tears fell faster. Pressing his lips against her forehead, he inhaled deeply. "You just concentrate on getting better."

"So, our patient's awake," Dr. Beaumont said from the glass entrance a moment later before he moved to the other side of Anne's bed. "I gotta say, Deputy, it's good to see your eyes open again. Agent Gideon, if you'll give us a few minutes…"

Feeling Anne's grip tighten even more around his hand, Jason shook his head. "Whatever you need to do or say, you can do with me sitting right here."

Noting Anne and Gideon's clasped hands and the fierce gaze being leveled on him, Dr. Beaumont nodded faintly. "I see. All right then," he said, turning his attention to Anne, "I want you to blink once for yes and twice for no, okay?"

Seeing Anne blink once, the Doctor continued, "Are you in any pain right now, Deputy?"

Two blinks.

"Good," he said approvingly. "We'll start weaning you back on the pain meds tomorrow if you continue to improve. We've repaired your remaining kidney to the best of our ability and are waiting to see if it begins compensating in the next twenty-four hours, Anne. I know it's scary, but even if it doesn't, we can give you dialysis while we look for a match for a transplant. Right now, there's no reason to believe that your remaining one won't kick into gear, though," he explained slowly, aware that her mind was still clouded by anesthesia and drug intervention. "Understand?"

One blink of her eyes, confirmed that she was indeed processing his words. Lifting her hand weakly to the tube in her mouth, she tapped her fingers against the plastic.

Understanding instantly, Dr. Beaumont gently captured her fingers and guided them back to the bed. "I know it's uncomfortable," he said as he nodded. "If you continue breathing above the respirator, we'll consider removing it in the next three or four hours. For now, however, it needs to stay put."

Jason knew that if Anne could have argued with the man, she would have given him hell. Her irritated gaze told him everything he needed to know. "Hey," he said softly as he smiled. "Don't look at me like that. _I'm_ not the one calling the shots here," he reminded her, stroking her soft hair. "Do what they tell us and we'll give 'em hell together later," he promised.

Blinking once, she relaxed against the pillow, but made no move to release his hand. At least that was a positive step in the right direction, he thought with a satisfied sigh.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on you. Get some rest," Beaumont ordered, patting her leg. "Both of you," he ordered before disappearing out of the room again.

Smoothing back Anne's auburn hair as she turned her head toward him, Gideon smiled. "You heard the man," he whispered. "You rest. There'll be time enough to ask all your questions later. For now, let's just focus on getting you stronger."

Seeing her narrow her eyes at him, Gideon chuckled. He should have known she'd be obstinate. "Although, maybe I ought to take this opportunity to tell you how I feel. You can't interrupt me that way."

Chuckling as she rolled her green eyes, he pulled the chair he'd been holding vigil in closer to her bed. Reaching for her hand again, he stared at their joined fingers. "I've been an asshole," he surmised, staring into her eyes.

One blink.

"You didn't have to agree so quickly," he grumbled. Licking his lips, he shook his head. "You know, I came out here to correct an error I made over twenty years ago. I was going to help out an old friend and get the hell out of Dodge. I didn't come out here to fall in love with an opinionated, infuriating redhead with a chip on her shoulder. I didn't come here looking for you. Truthfully, all this scares the hell out of me, Anne. And I hurt you because of it. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for that," he admitted huskily, dropping his head as his throat tightened. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Tugging his hand until he looked at her, Anne shook her head, her own eyes swimming with tears.

"I do love you," Gideon said hoarsely. "I don't deserve you, but you're going to play hell getting rid of me now, Red."

Staring at him for a long moment, Anne slowly blinked.

Once.


	178. Chapter 177

_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._

_First, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_

_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._

_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of April, anyone that reviews a Hotch related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._

_This week's author of the week is the talented Nebula2. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._

* * *

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Seven**

A mere two weeks later, Jennifer Jareau couldn't help but grin as she glanced around the overstuffed booth at the diner in the town where she'd spent most of her childhood. Leaning heavily against Dave's shoulder, she felt his arm wrap even tighter around her body. He had carefully placed her next to him when they'd arrived, taking care to protect her battered body in the way that only he'd been capable of doing.

It's what he'd been doing since she'd managed to escape from the medical Nazis just a few days earlier. While she deeply appreciated the medical care and understood better than anyone that the skilled professionals had truly been responsible for saving her life, she couldn't wait to get back to her normal life.

Normal. It was something that she could actually dream of now. Before, she realized that she had just been merely existing, living in a shadow, the trauma of losing her sister having darkened every area of her life. And rightfully so. And a part of her had always questioned if the right man had been held responsible all those many years ago. But she had always valiantly dismissed those thoughts, forcing herself to believe that the confession and the following death had closed that chapter of her life.

But now…now, it was a different story entirely. She had been there when the man truly responsible for killing her sister, for trying to kill her, for nearly killing Anne…she had been there when that monster had taken the bullet that stopped him for all of eternity.

Finally.

She felt a nudge against her shoulder just then, and she turned to stare up into Dave's worried eyes.

"You okay, babe?" Dave asked, his voice low in spite of the chatter from their team around them. For the last three days, he'd held his breath, keeping her close and under a watchful eye. He knew his vigilance sprang from how close she'd been to death.

And hell, he wasn't any worse than the man sitting across the table from him. Jason Gideon looked at Anne Fortner with the same intensity, guarding her just as fiercely since she'd been released into his care twenty-four hours ago.

Smiling, JJ nodded as she sighed. "Just thinking about the difference from all those years ago until now." Seeing Dave's eyes start to darken, she held up one hand to forestall what was certain to be a lecture on not letting her mind dwell on the past, she said quickly, "Not that way, Dave. I'm just thinking about how Hastings could have managed to stay off our radar for so long. I mean, how did he go undetected? How did he avoid being seen for what he was?"

"I think we might have some answers for that, Jayje," Emily said with a nod as she joined the team just then, pulling up a worn wooden chair to sit next to Penelope Garcia, who was busily draining the last of her Mountain Dew with a slurp of her straw. "We just got all of the reports back on the autopsy of Hastings. You know we sent the body to Quantico to have our people take charge. And they found something that might explain a few things."

Peering around Dave's body to look at the raven haired profiler that had flown up with Hotch to escort them back to DC in the morning, JJ frowned. "What?" she asked almost hesitant to know any more than she already did. But, in order to put this entire fiasco to rest, she knew she needed to listen to what the other woman was telling her.

"Hastings had a brain tumor in the region of his brain that affected his judgment. According to what Reid told me on the phone this morning, it's entirely possible that he heard voices telling him what to do."

"Like a schizophrenic?" Dave asked shrewdly.

"Sort of," Emily answered as she nodded. "The way Reid and Ducky explained it to me," she said, referring to the NCIS doctor that had assisted them on the case, "he probably suffered from hallucinations and delusions as well. It's entirely possible that he couldn't separate fantasy from reality. Combine that with his intelligence and training, and he made for one seriously unique unsub."

"Yeah," Aaron snorted, rolling his eyes from his position at the end of the table. "Garcia mentioned that Reid was already planning on presenting a paper on him at the next Bureau conference."

Gideon grimaced, his arm tightening around Anne's frail shoulders. "That is one conference _none _of us will be attending."

"It turns out that like most of the whack jobs we chase, he did come from a broken, abusive living environment. We tracked down an aging neighbor that remembered him from his childhood. Evidently, Hastings mother used to lock the boy in the basement for days. She kept him dosed on tranquilizers to keep him cooperative."

"Sounds like mother of the freaking year," Anne muttered, wincing as she shifted inside the cage of Gideon's arms.

"Regardless, the Navy brass noticed something off with him. That's why he never progressed through the ranks and he got out. He wasn't going anywhere," Emily explained, reaching for Aaron's coffee mug and taking a sip.

"As Gibbs said, though, they taught him just enough to be truly dangerous," Aaron added, shaking his head as he grimaced. "He used the skills he acquired to torture and kill more than forty victims at last count."

"We owe Jethro a debt we'll never be able to repay," JJ whispered, staring into the eyes of her father who was bracketing her in the booth on the other side.

"We do," Locke agreed gravely, looking from his daughter to Anne. "Thank God that boy never misses the kill shot."

"Well, you might consider payin' him back by convince him Abby isn't too young for him," Jackson Gibbs grumbled as he shifted in the booth next to Garcia. "I swear to God, that boy is gonna still be dancin' around those feelings when they put me in the ground."

"Give it time," Locke counseled. "He'll come 'round all on his own. After all, look at Sprite's outfit here…all paired off, pretty as you please. Garcia and Morgan. Em'ly and Aaron. Gid and Anne," he said with a nod toward the couple sitting to his left.

"I'm still deciding about that," Anne murmured with a snort even as she leaned into Gideon's side.

"Decision's been made, Red," Jason returned instantly. "Catch up, will ya?"

Soft laughter flowed around the table at his remark. "Then, of course, there's my girl and _him_," he sneered at Rossi though his eyes twinkled as he said it.

"_He_ has been doing his damndest to keep _your _girl in line and believe me, it's not as easier as it looks," Dave returned sarcastically, wincing as JJ buried an elbow in his ribs.

"How's that again?" JJ asked sweetly.

"The only one ya'll ain't got bagged is the good doctor," Locke mused.

"Oh, please God," Rossi whined as he shook his head, "Don't match make, Locke. Haven't we had enough problems?"

"And on that note, I think we'll adjourn until tomorrow. Meet everybody at the air field at nine. Locke, Jackson," Aaron said as he smiled, shaking both men's hands, "It's been an honor to work with you."

"And you," they murmured in response, both men immediately reaching for their coffee mugs.

"Gideon," Emily said mischievously as she smiled, "Reid mentioned that you'd be staying on in Sunshine for the foreseeable future?"

"Or until I throw him out," Anne teased, her hand wrapping around the older man's strong arm.

"That's right." Jason nodded. "Evidently, they need somebody to fill in for Anne while she's convalescing. The Sheriff's resigned, claiming it was obviously time for his retirement. And until Anne's physically ready to step into the job, I'm gonna warm the seat. Seems I fit the bill."

"I'd almost pay money to watch this," Dave murmured to JJ, a grin gracing his lips..

"And I expect everybody that can come back here for Christmas," Locke announced, looking at each of them in turn. "Ya'll are family now whether you wanna be or not."

"Jethro and his bunch are gonna come too," Jackson added with a wide grin.

And as JJ looked around the table, she realized that's exactly what they all were….a family.

And all because of one maniac with a long memory.


	179. Chapter 178

**The Girl Who Lived**

**Chapter 178**

She wondered if she would ever get accustomed to the thrill that slid through her body every time she felt the weightlessness of flight. While Spencer would be sure to tell her that the laws of physics and the gravitational effects against her normally earth-bound body were responsible for the fluttering, she was far more focused on the effect than the cause. No matter how many take-offs she had experienced, it was a brand new experience when the thrust of the engines propelled her into the waiting skies.

It made her feel free.

And this was one time that she knew that the freedom was going to last.

She felt strong fingers squeeze hers, and she turned her head slowly, reluctantly letting her gaze leave the disappearing land below them. But as she met his dark eyes, the slight flash hidden in those depths reminded her of exactly how much strength hid in the man that she loved.

That strength had both literally and figuratively carried her when she was incapable of moving a single inch. Somehow, her inner self had known that the man that had whisked her away from danger when she was a mere child would always be watching in the corners to rescue her whenever the need came again. And while she truly considered herself a strong woman capable of fighting her own battles, history had proven that he was responsible for helping her live to fight another day.

She might fly with the wings of eagles, but there was security in knowing that he was there to catch her if she ever fell again.

Seeing the smile gracing her beautiful lips, David Rossi matched her grin with one of his own as he dropped their clasped hands to his thigh. "Wanna tell me what's got you smiling like the Cheshire Cat, babe?"

Jennifer Jareau shrugged as she leaned back into the comfortable leather seat, dropping her head as she stretched out her legs, her ankle landing casually over his. "I'm just enjoying the plane ride, Dave." Glancing around the dimly lit cabin of the jet, she added, almost wistfully, "There were a few days when I wasn't ever certain I'd get to experience this again, you know."

"Those days are over, honey. That I can promise you," Dave assured her, his tone solid and warm in spite of the flutter of fear that still haunted him every time he remotely thought of losing her. The last few weeks had helped to dim that dread, but he was certain he would never forget the lingering doubts that had threatened to overtake him when he had seen her bundled into surgery, her vitals sinking faster than his own heart.

But she had rallied, and so had his bruised and battered soul. And if he was certain of one thing, it was that he was never going to let her out of his sight for the rest of her life. He had almost lost her twice….and he was not going to give the third time the opportunity to even occur.

JJ's voice interrupted his introspection as she poked his arm. "You're awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?"

Bringing their joined hands upward, he pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers as he grinned. "Oh, I'm sure of many things, babe. And the most important one is that I'm certain that as soon as we get you home and settled, that I'm going to be paying a visit to my jeweler. There's going to be a ring on this finger before the week is done."

She could feel her eyes widening as she stared at him in wonder. Shaking her head, she whispered, "D..Dave, what are you saying?"

"I think I said it pretty clearly, Jen," he replied easily, winking. Capturing her hand tighter when she would have pulled it away, he raised the seat rest between them as he pulled her closer. "I want the future together. I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of my life and know that you're there every single night. I want you to know that I'll be there no matter what happens, and that I'll protect you with everything that's within me." Pausing, he met her eyes as he added, "I'm asking you to marry me, Jennifer Jareau."

Her stomach fluttered at his solemn words, and she was certain it had nothing to do with the slight dip of the plane. While her brain was busily formulating multiple protests, her heart was tapping out a rhythm of happiness inside her chest. She wasn't accustomed to the fairy tale….at least not the ones that ended happily every after. But somehow, against the odds, she was indeed headed toward the vibrant rainbow, the yellow brick road, the glass slipper…and while she was certain he would balk at the title of Prince Charming, she would forever think of him as her knight in shining armor.

And maybe, just maybe, they could live happily ever after.

Growing worried at her sudden silence, Dave felt his heart catch in his chest as he asked, worriedly, "Babe?"

Raising her eyes back to his, JJ squeezed his fingers as her body relaxed against his, her smile returning once again. "Okay."

His brow furrowed as he cocked his head, his eyes searching those brilliant baby blues that stared back at him. "Just okay?"

Shrugging, she ignored the twinge of pain that slid through her still-healing body. "Okay's not what you wanted to hear?"

"Okay's absolutely perfect," Dave assured her quickly, his lips quirking as he dropped a soft kiss to her waiting lips. "But I kinda expected a litany of objections. I had a whole list of counter arguments all prepared."

"And I'm sure they were well-thought out and well prepared," JJ said solemnly, her twinkling eyes belying her tone. "You can amend them and use them during one of the many arguments I'm sure we'll have in the future. Marriage to you is sure to be a riot."

"You wound me, woman," Dave growled before leaning down and capturing her lips once again, this time taking his time.

When she finally pulled away, her breath catching in her throat, JJ whispered against his lips, "When did you know? When did you know we were going to become an us?"

Grinning, he whispered back, "When you walked into Hotch's office the first day I was back at the Bureau, I was pretty sure that I wanted you. I never looked at another woman after I saw you then, Jennifer. But seeing you being wheeled into the operating room….I was absolutely certain then that you were never going to leave me again." His lips slid against hers again, slowly, surely claiming her with an assurance that far surpassed any words that either of them could have uttered.

Long minutes later, JJ leaned her head against his shoulder, his arm easily tucking her closer. "You realize that Daddy's going to want to talk to you about this."

"Already took care of that," Dave said with a chuckle as he reached for a blanket from the nearby seat and tucked it over them both. "I had a chat with him before we left Sunshine. The old coot made me promise to bring you back home for the wedding." Grinning at her unladylike snort, he raised an eyebrow as he asked, "And since half of your town already thinks we are married, I don't think it'll come as much of a surprise. The nurses were certain you were already Mrs. Rossi, you know."

"I'm going to change my name again," JJ murmured, raising her head to look into his eyes. "This will be the third name I've had."

"But this time you're changing it for love, not fear, babe," Dave said, his tone as soft as hers but filled with a promise that she couldn't deny.

Love. It was a simple word that was fraught with such complex emotions. She had loved her mother and father and sister….and had known the horror of losing two of them in spite of her best efforts to keep them safe. The risk of loving him was just as great…but her heart broke through once again and calmed the fears of such a leap into the unknown.

"Loving is part of living, isn't it?" she murmured, half to him, half to herself as she sunk deeper into his side, the plane tilting slightly, a ray of sunshine filtering through the small porthole window and flickering across her arm.

"It will be for us," Dave promised her as he dropped a kiss to her hair, stroking his fingers against her arm. He would make sure it was. His Jennifer deserved a happiness that had been fleeting in her life up 'til now. Hell, they both did. This was their second chance.

This was their chance to live.

And as Jennifer Jareau allowed the rocking of the plane to lull her into a peaceful sleep, her last thought was that she was now happy that she was indeed the girl who lived.

And she still had a lot of living left to do.

**FINIS**

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**A/N – That's it for this one, folks. I hope you enjoyed the ride. Please drop a review and let us know if we did our job. All our love to everyone that has followed this story and stuck with us!**


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